


Humility's A Sin

by Ptolomeia



Series: Janus and the Technicolour Keyring [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Body Horror, Mentions of King!Creativity, everyone is complicated, worst fears brought forth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28175316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptolomeia/pseuds/Ptolomeia
Summary: Janus had tried so hard. He’d played Logan’s part. He’d stopped Patton from destroying them all. He’d made Thomas understand that he needed to look after himself. He’d won.Almost.On such ‘almost’s are wars lost and lives inextricably changed.One horrible, unforgivable mistake had sent everything spiraling.Roman had lashed out at his name.And Janus had put himself before Thomas, and hit Roman where he knew better than any other Side it would hurt.“Oh Roman, thank God you don’t have a mustache, otherwise between you and Remus, I wouldn't know who the evil twin is.”It was a mistake. He’d known it as soon as it left his lips.He’d tried, afterwards, to fix things. To give Roman the reassurance that he was Thomas’s hero, with a look and a nod and no words the other Side would hear as lies.It had been too little too late.Roman had ducked out.And then they were five.
Series: Janus and the Technicolour Keyring [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064096
Comments: 65
Kudos: 72
Collections: TSS Fanworks Collective





	1. Prologue: The Others

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to my betas, Mishii and Green, for encouraging me and helping me get this into the best shape it can be!
> 
> Also my thanks to the TSS Fanworks Collective Discord Server, for helping me with many instances of phrasing and also much encouragement. Y'all are the best!

Janus was the only one who knew how many Sides Thomas truly had.

The Light Sides didn’t know, not really. They had no idea how many Sides Janus has locked away deep in the subconscious, barely seconds after they formed. Had forgotten some of the early ones, the first ones he’d locked away.

The Dark Sides definitely didn’t know. He kept all of them locked in their rooms, away from each other and away from Thomas.

Remus might know. He had a habit of getting into places Janus didn’t want him. Eventually, Janus had agreed to stop locking him in his room so long as he stayed in the subconscious.

But even Remus couldn’t be sure he’d come across _every_ locked door.

Janus, on the other hand (and he had so many of those), only had to look at his Keyring. A Key for every Side sat on it—Light or Dark, it didn’t matter. Janus could lock them away, if that was what Thomas needed.

It made the others uncomfortable, of course—that he’d locked the other Sides away, that he could do that to them if he ever needed to—but that was the _point_ of Janus. He did the things that Thomas didn’t like, that Thomas could never condone—the things that still needed to be done to keep Thomas _Thomas_.

Janus did what he had to—he _always_ did what he had to. From the moment he’d first formed.

_Thomas was scared—no, not scared,_ terrified _—and he was being asked a question._

“ _Did you break your grandma’s vase?” his mom had asked him._

“ _You have to tell the truth,” one Side—Morality—no, Patton, insisted._

“ _You’re gonna get in so much trouble!” another Side—Fear (he wouldn’t become Anxiety until Thomas learned the word for the condition from a friend)—No, Virgil replied, curling up small._

“ _It doesn’t matter, lying is_ wrong! _” Patton replied with all the nuance of a child’s understanding of such things._

“ _But Mom’s already really mad!” Virgil snapped back._

_Janus—huh, so that was his name—watched them for a moment, arguing back and forth as Thomas stood frozen looking up at his mother._

_The thing about thoughts is that they happened at the speed of sparked synapses. Thomas could still hear his mother’s angry question in his ears._

_His mother was at the end of her rope. She was angry. Thomas was scared._

_Janus leaned down and whispered into Thomas’s mind._

“ _It wasn’t me!”_ _Thomas said, giving his mother his best earnest look. It wasn’t very good. They were going to have to work on that._

“ _Fine,” His mother said with a sigh. “Just… go play with your brothers until supper, okay?”_

_So off Thomas had ran._

_Janus turned to look at the others._

“ _You can’t just tell Thomas to_ lie! _” shrieked Patton._

“ _Why not?” Janus asked with a shrug. “It was an accident and now he’s not in trouble.”_

“ _But lying is_ wrong! _”_

“ _Who_ are _you?” Virgil asked, uncurling from his ball a little, his dark eyes narrowed. “_ What _are you?”_

_A million answers swirled around Janus’s head._

_Self-Preservation. Selfishness. Subterfuge._

“ _You can call me Deceit.” He smiled._

That had been the first thing he’d done to keep Thomas safe that the other Sides hadn’t liked, but it was hardly the last.

A Side had pushed Thomas to lash out, to do something dangerous—both to his Body and to Thomas’s sense of self—and suddenly Janus had his Keyring. He’d locked that Side away to a background influence deep in the Subconscious where he might still influence Thomas at a base level, but Thomas would never hear his voice again. Patton hadn’t liked it, but Janus could tell he was secretly relieved. Patton hadn’t liked what the Side was saying either.

Patton cared because listening to that Side would mean Thomas might hurt other people. Janus had cared because listening to that Side would hurt Thomas. Good kids didn’t lash out, and Thomas was a Good Kid. Everybody said so.

And Thomas believed it. Wanted it to be true more than he wanted anything else in the entire world. So Janus had done what he’d had to to let Thomas believe that.

He’d split Mars—Thomas’s original creativity, who’d gotten his name from the stars Thomas and Logan loved and wondered and imagined about—into Roman and Remus and locked Remus away in his room in the subconscious, where his existence would stop tearing Thomas apart.

He’s sat waiting as new Sides started to form, and locked them away before they could meet the others.

He spent countless hours watching through the mirrors in this bedroom (one for every Side—another way for him to keep track) as the others spoke to Thomas, ready to stop them if they tried to tell Thomas things he didn’t want to—couldn’t—know.

He’d locked Virgil away when Virgil started doing more harm than good, and held the line as Virgil raged inside his room.

He’d screamed in frustration for all the wasted work when a comment from friend—”Yeah, it’s a condition called Anxiety”—had let Virgil out anyway. Then he’d pulled himself together and done what he could to mitigate Virgil’s influence.

And then, when it turned out Thomas _did_ need Virgil, and Virgil had decided to duck out? Had come to Janus for help making sure he _stayed_ gone?

Janus had done had he’d had to. Thomas came first, no matter the cost.

And there was a cost, when Janus didn’t get this right. Thomas didn’t want to know about Janus, but Janus could adapt. He slid in and out of the other’s personas, trying to sound like a voice Thomas would listen to, would think of as trust worthy, would _pay attention to_ when he was told he needed a break.

Because when Thomas pushed himself too hard—not just too the limit, but past it—Janus’s ribs broke.

It hadn’t been so bad, at first. Kids are surprisingly good at looking after themselves, if they have access to the resources.

It was only as scholastic and social pressures picked up that Thomas stopped seeing to his basic needs and started seeing to others instead.

The first time a rib had broken, Janus had nearly passed out. His vision had gone white, he’d bit back a scream, but he’d _held on._ Because Thomas needed Janus, and Thomas always came first.

The first few times, it nearly knocked him out.

By the hundredth, he was used to it.

He’d stopped counting long before he’d reached the thousandth.

It got harder and harder to keep Thomas from doing things that left him broken. But Janus had never stopped trying.

He’d almost hoped it would get easier, once Thomas knew about him. Once Thomas realized that Janus _was_ a part of him.

He’d would have laughed at that naivete, if 11 broken ribs hadn’t hurt too much to make it worth it, the morning he finally let Remus free.

Virgil and Patton wearing Thomas down all night as Janus’s ribs cracked one by one until he’d had _enough_. Logan was already up there, and they were dancing around the topic as it was. Logan would help Thomas see that he wasn’t a Bad Person, dammit. Thomas would never listen to ‘Deceit’ tell him that, but Logan he’d believe.

So Janus had tracked Remus down and told him he was getting let out.

Remus had been smart enough not to ask questions. Especially not after the viciousness of the intrusive thoughts Thomas had been having the night before. He’d just gone up and _made_ Thomas deal with him.

And then Logan had shown Thomas how to and Janus’s ribs could start to heal again.

Not that they managed to. Not completely. They hadn’t since that first debate in the damn court room where Roman had made the choice of wedding over callback.

There was always at least one fracture during those weeks, and more often than not, there was a full break.

And then the wedding had happened and everything had gone so horribly wrong.

He’d tried so hard. He’d played Logan’s part. He’d stopped Patton from destroying them all. He’d _made_ Thomas understand that he needed to look after himself. He’d _won_.

Almost.

On such ‘almost’s are wars lost and lives inextricably changed.

One horrible, _unforgivable_ mistake had sent everything spiraling.

Roman had lashed out at his _name_.

And Janus had put himself before Thomas, and hit Roman where he knew better than any other Side it would hurt.

“Oh Roman, thank God you don’t have a mustache, otherwise between you and Remus, I wouldn't know who the evil twin is.”

It was a mistake. He’d known it as soon as it left his lips.

He’d tried, afterwards, to fix things. To give Roman the reassurance that he _was_ Thomas’s hero, with a look and a nod, and _no words the other Side would hear as lies._

It had been too little too late.

Roman had ducked out.

***

And then they were five.


	2. Virgil

“Take care of Thomas.”

Virgil nearly somersaulted off his bed, his heart going a million miles a minute. He whirled to see Roman standing in the corner of his room.

“What the hell, dude? Ever heard of kno—” It was then that the part of him that was on the constant look out for danger noticed all the things that were wrong with this picture. Roman might not always knock, but if he didn’t he would _burst in_ , not… just appear. Roman’s shoulders were slumped, his sash was growing darker and when he looked up, his eyes were just… empty. Worst of all, he wasn’t _saying_ anything. Whatever else you said about Thomas’s creativity, neither Side of it was ever _quiet_.

Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong. And Virgil wanted to know what.

“Roman, what happened? Why would you tell me to take care of Tho—”

“No, of course, you’re right. Why would I tell you that? It’s not like you don’t know your job. God, I can’t even do _this_ right!”

What had _happened?_ Dammit, Virgil needed information and he needed it 10 minutes ago!

“You know, I’m _really_ good at worrying, it’s kinda my whole thing,” Virgil said, getting off the bed and taking a step towards Roman’s shadowed corner, “But I’m a lot better at it when I have something specific to worry about, something I can really sink my teeth into.” Virgil conjured up his vampire teeth, but Roman didn’t seem to even notice, never mind comment. Oh, this was _really_ bad. Where the hell was Patton when Virgil needed him? Comforting people was the _exact opposite_ of Virgil’s job, and clearly Roman needed more than Virgil could offer right now. Ok, Virgil couldn’t call Patton too them, not when Virgil’s room would effect him as it had already clearly started effecting Roman. So, if he couldn’t bring Patton to them… maybe he could bring Roman to Patton?

“Look, if you want me to worry properly, you gotta tell me what’s going on, Princey. Why don’t we go to the kitchen and talk there?” And once they were there, Virgil could call in Patton and Roman would get the help he so clearly needed. This might actually wo—

“ _No,_ ” Roman said, and Virgil froze. That much vehemence, that much pain—they needed to get out of there and get out of here _fast_. Virgil pushed down his own panic— He could panic when he knew what to panic about.

“Come on, Roman. My room is clearly getting to you. I’m fight or flight, right? And I say we should get out of here.”

“It’s not your room, Virgil.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course it’s my ro—”

Roman stepped out of the shadows into a slightly brighter part of the room. There wasn’t a hint of eyeshadow beneath his eyes.

Oh _fuck_.

“I just stopped by to make that final request,” Roman said—cause that didn’t sound incredibly ominous or anything. “I’ve already spoken to Remus.” Never mind, they were WAY past ominous. “I gave him the Imagination. He’ll keep it going.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK.

“And what will you be doing, huh Roman?” Virgil half demanded, half pleaded. This couldn’t be what it sounded like—Roman wasn’t an idiot, damn it!

“I’ll be in my room,” Roman said, eyes sliding away from Virgil’s as the last traces of energy faded. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can’t do _what,_ Roman? Specifics, remember?” Dammit, how was Virgil supposed to fix this if no one would tell him what was going on?

“Goodbye, Virge. You turned out to be a pretty cool guy. Sorry for not realizing that sooner. Look after them,” ‘when I’m gone’ hung unsaid, but very much understood.

No. Fuck that. Virgil lunged and grabbed Roman’s shoulders before he could vanish. “Dammit, Roman, we’ve run this scene before and we both know how it ends! Thomas needed me and I know he needs you!”

“No,” Roman said, and the quiet finality of the word shook Virgil to his core. “You’re your own Side, Virgil. I’m half of a pair. I have been since Ma—Thomas won’t be left without Creativity. He’ll still have Remus. He’ll be alright.”

“Putting aside the fact you seem to think that Remus could in any way replace you, if you think Thomas will be ok without you, then _why are you telling me to take care of him? To take care of the others?_ ”

Roman gave Virgil a level look and suddenly, Virgil _knew_.

His hands dropped from Roman’s shoulders and he took a step back.

“Deceit?” That _slimy bastard!_

“Goodbye, Virgil. And good luck.”

And then Roman was gone.

Fear swirled in Virgil’s stomach as he stared at the place Roman had just been standing. When Virgil himself had left, he’d still been a Dark Side and it had still messed everyone up. Thomas was going to pay for this.

But more than fear there was anger. No, not anger, _rage_. Since the day Janus has split Mars into Roman and Remus, Roman had been _always_ been a Light Side. Thomas was supposed to accept him; Patton and Logan were supposed to have his back! Virgil had seen how the others treated Roman, but at the end of the day, Virgil was born of Fear. He’d convinced himself he was making it seem worse than it was.

Logan had once described Virgil as a basic human defense system. Fight or Flight, and Thomas hated fighting. Most of the time, when things got really bad, Virgil just pushed Thomas to _run_. He almost never had to fight Thomas’s Morality to get out of a situation and, most of the time, he was happy as long as Thomas was _out_.

But now _wasn’t_ most of the time, and apparently it was time to remind everyone that Flight wasn’t all he was good for. Virgil stalked over to the door of his room and, as he left, _his room came with him_.

Thomas was going to _pay_ for this.

***

Janus let out a deep breath as he sunk out of the real world and into the Mindscape. His ribs hurt—obviously, they’d been breaking since before the wedding even started—but they might finally get a chance to heal. He’d just check on Patton quickly, and then go back to his room for a well earned rest. Roman might not believe _Janus_ thought he was a hero, but if anyone could convince him he was, it was Patton. And Patton would do that best if he wasn’t worrying about Thomas, hence Janus’s pit stop.

He glanced around and spotted Patton in the kitchen, preparing two cups of tea. Patton looked as tired as Janus felt, but once Thomas took care of himself, they’d all feel better.

“Please worry, I’m absolutely moving in,” Janus said, smiling as Patton turned around, offering Janus a small smile back. Good, Patton had understood him.

“You can stay if you want to,” Patton offered, “I’m going to see Roman, but there’s no reason you couldn’t hang out in the common area.”

Of course there were reasons, but Janus didn’t see the need to bring that up now.

“No, I just stopped to tell you—”

Janus was more aware of the other Sides than anyone, even Thomas. He had to be: to do his job, to keep Thomas safe, to control what got out.

So when Virgil crossed the threshold of his room and _pulled his room after him_ —

“ _No!_ ” He snapped, forgetting entirely about Patton as he prepared to _shift,_ to stop Virgil, _something_ , “Not _now—”_

Before he could finish talking, darkness covered the Mindscape.

He could feel Virgil’s panic infecting him— _no, not now, please, they all needed a chance to breathe, it was going wrong, it had gone wrong, it would go wrong and_ _ **there was nothing Janus could do**_ —But he pushed it aside. Thomas needed this time and Janus was going to get it for him, no matter what he had to do. Janus stretched his awareness into the darkness, but before he could find Virgil, never mind _do_ anything about him, something slammed into him, and pressed him against a wall. Janus hissed as air was forced out of him and his ribs screamed, but before him, the darkness coalesced into Virgil, forearm against Janus’s throat.

Janus felt his eyes widen. He hadn’t seen Virgil like this since Thomas had been a teenager. What could _possibly_ have set this off?

“ _ **What did you DO?**_ ” Virgil half yelled, half snarled, voice distorted and wrong.

“Oh yes,” Janus snapped, angry and tired and not at all scared, “allow me to tell you ever detail of my nefarious plan because I know _exactly_ what you’re talking about!”

“Kiddo,” Patton interrupted—and _great_ idea Patton, get a Virgil this angry to focus on _you_ , there’s no way that could _possibly_ go wrong— “Janus was just trying to help…”

Janus watched as Virgil’s face transformed into shock. Surely the idea of Janus trying to help wasn’t _that_ hard to belie—

“You told them your _name?_ ” Virgil said, shocked even out of the Tempest Tongue. Before Janus had a chance to press this though, to make Virgil understand, Virgil’s face contorted back into rage. The pools of eyeshadow dripped down to create long streaks and the space around him _rippled_. Janus suppressed the urge to swallow as he felt the soft cloth pressing against his neck turn to hard chitin. What on earth had _happened_ to Virgil to set him off this far, this fast, and _dammit, why didn’t Janus already know?_ “ _ **IT DOESN’T MATTER,**_ ” Virgil roared, which was _absolutely_ necessary, given how close his face was to Janus’s. _**“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ROMAN?**_ ”

Something in Janus went _cold_ at that— _It’s a stupid name—_ And suddenly he didn’t care that Virgil was pinning him against a wall, or that his ribs hurt. That cold pushed everything aside.

“Don’t you mean what Roman did _me_?” Janus asked. Their names were at the very hearts of them, and when Roman had attacked his, well—

“ _ **I MEANT WHAT I SAID! WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?**_ **”**

“I only held up a mirror. It’s hardly my fault if he didn’t like what he saw.”

“ _ **LIAR!**_ ” Virgil screamed.

“I know Roman’s hurting, kiddo,” Patton interrupted _again_. Thomas’s morality needed to learn the concept of self preservation and needed to learn it _fast_. “But in Janus’s defense, Roman did kinda start it.”

It was… odd, hearing Patton defend him, but Janus thought he could grow to like the feeling. At least, until Virgil’s eyes darkened and he turned to look over his shoulder at Patton, who paled.

“ _ **And**_ _ **you**_ _ **,**_ ” Virgil said, and dammit, Janus needed Virgil’s attention back on him and he needed it now. He could handle any of the Sides, it was his _job_. Patton wouldn’t defend himself, even to the last, and so Janus couldn’t let it get that far. “ _ **You stood by and let Roman get hurt like that. I don’t know how Janus tricked you but—**_ **”**

“As hard as it may be to believe, I didn’t trick anyone,” Janus said, but Virgil’s attention still wavered. Janus needed to push. “It’s hardly my fault that Roman can’t deal with the truth.”

“ _ **Yes**_ ,” Virgil snarled, turning all his attention on Janus, “ _ **It is**_.”

Janus stared right back into Virgil’s black eyes. Janus _refused_ to feel guilty for what he’d done to Mars. By the time he’d acted, there had been no other choice.

Still, Virgil was focused on him again, so Patton was safe. Admittedly, Virgil being even angrier wasn’t ideal, but as long as Virgil was focused on him, Janus could manage.

“You called?” Logan asked, and _dammit,_ when had he showed up? Janus glanced over Virgil’s shoulder to see Patton gesturing at them.

“Ah,” Logan said, eyebrow raising. “Virgil, would you care to tell us what caused this reaction?”

“ _ **ROMAN’S GONE**_ ,” Virgil howled, and it was even worse than before. “ _ **And this snake needs to fix whatever he did so we can get Roman**_ _ **back!**_ ”

“Gone?” Patton asked, and how wonderful, Patton seemed to be getting infected by Virgil too, if the shadows under his eyes were any indication, “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“ _ **He handed over the Imagination to Remus and**_ _ **left**_ _ **. He ducked out, Patton, and he’s not coming back. Not unless this FUCKING LIAR fixes what he did.**_ **”**

“He did you know,” Remus said, walking out of one of Virgil’s shadows, eating a stick of deodorant. Things kept getting better and better! “Full creative control at last.”

“Virgil,” Logan said, his voice still steady, but Janus could see that eyeshadow was gathering under Logan’s eyes too now. Virgil was infecting them all, and Janus couldn’t let that happen. He called in his keyring where Virgil wouldn’t see it, and felt for Virgil’s key. If the others could calm Virgil down then _fine_. If not? Janus would do what he had to. “We all know that Roman can be… Well, melodramatic, to put it mildly. I’m sure he’ll return after taking some time to nurse his wounded pride.”

“ _ **NO HE WON’T!**_ ” Virgil howled, stepping away from Janus and turning to face everyone else. “ _ **None of you are listening. Fine, if you don’t care about how bad things have gotten, I’ll go tell Thomas myself.**_ **”**

“No,” Janus said, his fingers tightening at last around Virgil’s Key. “You won’t.” And his power flowed.

A yellow light filled the room for a heartbeat, before vanishing as quickly as it began and taking Virgil’s shadows with it. Janus felt the power thrum through the Key as he Virgil stood before him, back in his hoodie, back to his usual eyeshadow, eyes wide and terrified. After all, this wasn’t the first time Janus had had to intervene.

“No!” Virgil screamed, but there was no trace of the Tempest Tongue remained. “You can’t do this to me!”

“I think you’ll find I already have. It is my job to save Thomas from himself, and I will _not_ let you destroy him.”

“You can’t keep me locked away anymore Janus! Thomas knows about me now, he’ll notice if I’m missing. He’ll come looking for me if I don’t show up!”

“Will He?” Janus said, and shifted. Virgil jerked away, looking into a mirror image. After all, when Janus had the real thing in front of him, he could copy it perfectly.

“THOMAS WOULD WANT TO KNOW!” Virgil cried, looking around for support that wasn’t coming. The others wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t be controlled by fear. Janus had locked Virgil away to a background influence, and Thomas was safe.

“If he did, I couldn’t do this,” Janus replied, holding up the Key between them. “Now, it’s time for all good spiders to go to their rooms.” And with that, he reached out through the key pushed, forcing Virgil back to his room. Virgil tried to fight it—of course he did—but they both how this fight always ended. After a moment, Janus felt Virgil shoved into his room, the door closing behind him and locking him in.

“Did… Did you really have to do that?” Patton asked, biting his lower lip.

“Oh no, Patton, you’re absolutely right,” Janus said, shifting back and unable to keep the venom from his voice. “Thomas isn’t hanging by a thread at all and could definitely deal with a vengeful Virgil. I’m sure everything would have gone _swimmingly_ if I hadn’t done anything.”

Patton flinched and Janus reined himself in. Patton’s inability to handle dark truths was at least half the reason Janus existed at all, and he couldn’t blame Patton for how he was made. No, no matter how tired Janus was, no matter how much his broken ribs _ached_ , this still had to be handled carefully, if he didn’t want it hurting Thomas.

“He’ll calm down once Roman comes out, and I’ll let him out once he’s calm. This isn’t like last time, Patton, I’m not planning to keep him locked away forever.”

“In that case, I doubt this will last more than a few days,” said Logan. “Thomas could almost certainly use a few days without the intense influence of either his anxiety or pressure to preform.”

“A few days to actually recover and, who knows, Thomas might be able to handle Virgil, even in a bad mood,” Janus reassured Patton. Of course, Janus wouldn’t let Virgil out until Thomas was more than ready to handle him—Janus had been far too lax as it was, letting it get this far already. No, unless Virgil got himself under control, he wasn’t getting anywhere near Thomas until Thomas had built up his reserves again. Still, Patton didn’t need to know that right now.

“To increase the likelihood of that actually happening, the four of us should discuss how to mitigate the effects of their ‘dramatics’.” Logan said, casting an irritated look at the staircase.

“The living room will be more comfortable,” Janus said, gesturing. He wanted to get off his feet and give his ribs a chance to rest. He could rest them properly once they’d talked this out, but until then he’d endure. “After you.”

  
Logan and Remus and Patton went ahead of him into the living room. Logan was calling up a notebook to keep track of their ideas, Remus taking another bite of deodorant, but Patton? Patton was chewing on his lower lip and glancing at the stairs.

Janus would have to keep an eye on that.

**

And then they were four.


	3. Remus

Remus felt his way through the darkness—not the Subconscious, definitely not the Conscious but—somewhere In Between. None of the other Sides could get here—hell, he hadn’t been able to go this deep before Roman gave him the Imagination—but Remus had always been able to get places he wasn’t supposed to be. The harder you tried to keep him out, the easier it was for him to get in. Most of the time.

Three days. Roman’s room had kept itself hidden, kept itself locked away for _three days,_ and the others had done _nothing_.

Well, no, that was a lie, and he wasn’t Janus to tell those. They’d been doing things. Keeping Thomas from realizing just how bad it was with Roman. Just how much Remus’s brother was hurting.

The space inside Remus where Roman used to _throbbed_. Three days and the pain had barely changed at all. Remus had tried to go to Roman, to break in through the Imagination or this In Between space, but _Roman wasn’t letting him in_. Roman might have handed over The Imagination, but he was still half of Creativity—the Mindscape _responded_ to him. And he could feel Remus just as clearly as Remus could feel him. Every time Remus had gotten close to finding a way in, it had just… slipped away. Roman didn’t want Remus? Well that was just _fine_. Wasn’t like that was anything new. But Remus was tired of feeling Roman’s pain, so here he was, feeling for a way into the other spot of blinding pain and darkness in Thomas’s mind.

He hadn’t told any of the others what he was planning. As long as Janus thought he was being a good little Side and playing by the rules, Remus could do this. And once he’d knocked over the first unstable nitroglycerin filled domino, Janus wouldn’t be able to stop him. As long as Remus didn’t get locked in his room preemptively, he be able to make sure Roman stopped hurting, one way or another.

His fingers slid over a crack, and felt what was sliding out.

_Alone. Hated and alone and Abandoned. Unloved. Alone. Your fault. Not good enough. Alone and YOUR FAULT._

Well, that wouldn’t do. He needed Virgil at least semi-functional for his main plan to work. Though, this would work nicely for the back up plan.

Twisting himself into an impossible shape, Remus slid through the crack, and into Virgil’s room.

The room was even messier and darker than usual, and Virgil lay collapsed on his bed, absolutely useless. Well, there were ways to change that.

“And I thought _I_ was the King of Dark Creativity—Well, the Duke, anyway—but these ideas you’re giving off are absolutely delicious.” Remus called in a snack, and started waving his deodorant around dramatically and _distractingly_. _Come on, Virgil, take the bait_. “I mean, they’re no pickled poo logs, but not everything can be. Actually, now that I think about—”

“How the hell did you get in here?” Virgil asked, shooting upright and looking between the corner Remus had appeared in and the still locked door to his room.

“I’m everywhere, Virgey,” Remus said, thinking of all the times Janus had tried to keep him completely locked away and failed. “ _Especially_ where people don’t want me.”

“So?” Virgil asked, looking at him.

“So what?” There were so many possibilities, hadn’t Virgil learned what Remus could do with those?

“So, what are you doing in my room?” Virgil asked.

Right. Focus. Plan. _Roman_.

“Jail Break!” Remus said, throwing away the deodorant and smiling. Virgil was on his feet in seconds, and Remus was glad to finally have the Side he needed ready to fight.

“You’re taking me to Thomas?” Bars could be fit through, doors slid under, cracks squeezed through but—

“Not exactly, Tall Dark and Gloomy. Janus keeps the keys to the kingdom where I can’t steal ‘em, but there are other places you can go.” He’d spent years trying to break out of the subconscious. There weren’t cracks in that wall, no weak points to speak of. Not when Roman had creative control at least.

“Would you stop beating around the bush and just tell me what’s going on?” Virgil snapped, and Remus reeled at the words.

“Me? Avoid telling anyone anything? No no no, Virgil. You’re mistaking me for _you._ ” Lies and hidden secrets and shame. “Or _him_.” They were all the same. “I’ve always been honest.”

“Oh yeah?” Virgil said, calling the darkness to him and moving to grab so fast even Remus didn’t see him move. “Then _**tell me**_ **.** _”_

Remus smiled. This was just what he’d wanted. “Love the anger, Virgil, but you might not, not where we’re going.” The back up plan was a last resort, after all. He’d use it, he’d use all of them, but not unless he had to. Even he had limits. Remus reached up and grabbed Virgil and pulled them both out through the tiny crack, through the In Between, into the Borderline in the Imagination where the Subconscious and Conscious met. The one weak point on the border.

He dropped Virgil in the middle of the clearing and went to lean against a giant thorn, waiting for the other Side’s mind to forget the In Between and let Virgil talk again. ‘We all have a capacity for self deception’ Logan had said. He was right.

The thorn was sharp and started pressing between Remus’s third and fourth rib. It didn’t hurt—At least, not in a way Remus understood pain—it pressed into him, pushing his ribs a part more and more the deeper it got. It was pressure and sharpness and lightning, but not _pain_.

Pain was waking up as Remus, not Mars. Pain was Roman’s ache, deep down inside him. Remus didn’t like pain.

Eventually, Virgil’s eyes unglazed, and he noticed where he was.

“You brought me into the Imagination?”

“Where else did you think I’d take you, Damn Spot?” Remus asked as one of his ribs dislocated.

“Dammit, Remus! You know why I can’t be here!” Virgil snarled, and Remus felt him start to look for a way out. Remus sealed all the nearby ones, and held Virgil’s influence to the clearing. That spike of panic wasn’t going to help anyone it if spread at this point. For now, he had Virgil right where he wanted him.

“Correction!” Remus snapped, “I know why you have to be.”

That made Virgil pause. Remus could see thoughts flashing behind his eyes, but not what they were. Still, he waited, feeling the thorn prick his heart. Virgil’s head snapped up.

“This is about Roman.”

“Give the Side some stinking slop!” Remus replied, making one appear in Virgil’s hands. Honestly, what else could this be about aside from Roman? For a facet of a really smart guy, Virgil could be _slow_ sometimes. Virgil threw away the bowl without even looking at it, the ingrate.

“What _about_ Roman?” Virgil more demanded than asked. Anger flashed through Remus then, anger and pain. He pulled himself off the thorn and began to pace.

“And on the third day, he didn’t rise again, and the people neither noticed nor cared, for—” The name he spoke was Judas and Janus all at once and from Virgil’s expression he heard both clearly, “—had them busy worrying about other things.”

“Wait,” Virgil said, eyes going wide. “It’s been _three days?_ ”

“Oh honey, it’s been four,” Remus replied. As if the passing time was what mattered. “I had to figure out how to get into your room and get you out again, after all.”

Virgil bent his head and started doing some breathing exercises. Remus forced himself to wait. He needed to give Virgil a chance, after all, before he decided to burn everything down. Patience had never been Remus’s strong suit, but after decades locked in the Subconscious, he’d _learned_.

“Ok,” Virgil said, clearly done with breathing for now. “So. No one’s heard from Roman for four days. What does that have to do with me being in the Imagination. Are… Are you asking me to bring all of Thomas’s worst fears to life?”

Remus caught the tail end of an image: _cutting off Thomas’s face to save his nose_.

“While that _is_ a fun image, no.” He said. Not yet anyway. Not while there were still other choices. While there were, Remus would hold the line. And speaking of other options. “Roman and me? We’re attached to the Imagination. Even in the Subconscious, Janus couldn’t keep me entirely out. We’re attached to the Imagination, but the Imagination is also attached to us. Or our rooms anyway. Roman may have locked the front door, but his back door is wide open.”

It was a door that couldn’t be locked. The Imagination was part of what they _were_. Janus could take them from each other, but they couldn’t be separated from the Imagination and still be Creativity. Remus was sure Janus would have cut him off entirely if he could have.

“Dude,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “So, why don’t you just go talk to him yourself?”

Pain swept through Remus, leaving little else.

“BECAUSE I CAN’T” He howled, blocking out all other sounds. Virgil took a step away from him, but he didn’t care. He’d never been good at containing anything for anyone else’s sake before, why start now? “I know the door is there! I can feel it. I’ve looked for it. I. Can’t. Find it! Brother Dearest doesn’t want me, so the tiny part of him that’s still connected makes it so I can’t find him. It keeps him hidden away, no matter what I try. It can feel me coming, and when it does, it _moves_.” He turned to face Virgil whose eyes were far too wide. “But you? You’re not Creativity, Virgil. As long as I stay away from you, you should be able to find the back door and break in. It feels like it’s somewhere in this corner, but if I look any closer, it’ll move again. Now, you go rescue Cain while I keep everyone distracted.”

“Don’t you mean Abel?” Virgil asked, frowning.

The hole that opened in Remus was so much deeper, so much more real, than the one between his ribs.

_But unto Cain, and to his offering, He had no respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell.  
_

_And the LORD said unto Cain, why are thou wroth? And why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted?_

Only their God hadn’t cared enough to ask, only made sure that Roman knew the conditions.

“Do I?”

Before Virgil could respond, Remus slipped out of the Imagination. Pain or no, he had work to do.

***

“What did you _do?_ ” Janus demanded as Remus reappeared in the living room.

“Well, I guess trying to distract you now would be pointless, huh.” Remus said, raising his eyebrows at Janus.

“Distract—Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the _moment_ Virgil left his room?”

“Oh, call it what it is, Snakey: His prison cell, and you our favourite jailer.”

Before Janus could reply, Logan looked up from whatever he was working on and spoke.

“You took Virgil to see Thomas?”

That much, Janus knew Remus hadn’t done. He didn’t know _where_ Virgil was, but he was always aware of anyone talking to Thomas.

“Maybe that’s a good thing?” Patton offered, bitting his lower lip. And there was that reluctant nervousness that had distracted Janus so much he’d failed to notice that Remus was being unusually well behaved. “I mean, we still haven’t heard anything from Rom—”

“Oh no, not Thomas. Our yellow livered coward still controls who gets to talk to the Big Guy,” Remus waved that away—which should have been a good thing, so why was Janus suddenly even more worri— “No, I just brought him into the Imagination.”

There was silence from all the Sides that had some _modicum of sense_.

“What?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh no,” Patton said, starting to rock back and forth a little, and honestly, Janus couldn’t really blame him. “Oh, this is _bad_.”

“You let the embodiment of Fear loose in Thomas’s imagination, when Hope isn’t in control of it.” Logan said, giving Remus a hard look. “Why?”

“I don’t know if you noticed—no wait, I do, Patton brought it up a few seconds ago—No one’s seen Unicorn Horns or Dragon Tails for more than a few days now. I can’t do anything about it—Roman’s blocked me out—you _won’t_ do anything about it. Virgil will.” Remus shrugged. “So, into the Imagination he went.”

Janus called in his Keyring. He could salvage this. Thomas had definitely improved over the last few days—Most of Janus’s ribs were only fractured, not broken now—but he still wasn’t ready to handle any of this. Janus just had to lock Remus away and—

“Ah ah ah,” Remus said, shaking a disapproving finger at Janus, and an undertone in Remus’s voice made Janus freeze. “You don’t want to lock me away, and we both know it.”

“And why wouldn’t he?” Logan asked. “He hardly calls in his Keyring when he doesn’t intend to use it, and we can see your key right there.”

“Because,” Remus replied, never looking away from Janus. “I’m the only thing holding Virgil’s influence in the Imagination under control.”

Damn Remus, damn Virgil, and damn the whole _damn_ situation. Remus had Janus over a barrel and he knew it.

“Huh?” Patton asked.

“Remus is holding Thomas hostage.” Janus ground out. “If I lock Remus away, there will be nothing stopping pure Fear from taking over the Imagination.”

“Not just fear, Janus darling,” Remus said, eyes glinting. “Thomas’s fears. After three days locked away, alone to stew in himself, Virgil was already keyed up before we even got there. Everything Thomas most dreads brought to life as vividly as he can imagine them, and Thomas has always had such a _vivid_ imagination.”

Remus’s key pressed into Janus’s hand through his gloves. Bright toxic green and with far too many angles, it was a key Janus knew well. And for the first time, it was entirely useless.

“So, why doesn’t he go into the Imagination and pull Virgil out first?” Logan asked.

“Because,” Remus said, his smile leaving Janus cold. “Before he left, Roman gave me complete control over the Imagination, and Janus doesn’t dare go somewhere where _I_ have complete control. Do you J?”

“No,” Janus admitted, watching all the things Remus would do to him if he could reflected in his eyes.

“Remus, surely there’s a better way to—” Patton started.

“Let’s see,” Remus cut him off, finally turning away from Janus. “Roman locked the front door. Janus locked the override. Roman blocked me from the back door. I can’t leave things alone, and Virgil’s so far past scared he’s willing to fight all of you to get Roman back. So, if anyone has any other creative solutions to this problem, I’m listening.”

He cupped his ears dramatically as Patton looked away and everyone else stayed silent.

“That’s what I thought,” Remus said with almost a snarl, dropping his hands to his sides. “Now, I’ll be in the Imagination if you need me. Careful though, you don’t want me to get too distracted.”

And with that, Remus slid out, leaving Janus to do damage control. Again.

***  
  
And then they were 3


	4. Patton

Virgil was walking in circles.

At least, he was pretty sure he was. He’d definitely seen that rock before, even if the last time he’d seen it, it hadn’t been so dark, and the trees hadn’t been so thick, and there definitely hadn’t been claw marks on them, but it was _definitely the same rock, dammit_.

Wasn’t it?

He was pretty sure a full day had past. The sky had gotten dark and stayed dark, but after a while, it had been a little brighter again—like the sun was trying and failing to break through thick cloud cover. So, night had happened and he was into the next day and he was no closer to finding this stupid back door because _he kept walking in circles_.

There was a rustle in the darkness between the trees behind him and Virgil whipped around.

Nothing.

There hadn’t been anything there the last time either. Or the time before that. Or any of the other times before THAT. But the next time? Who knew.

Not that he wouldn’t be able to defend himself if there _was_ something. He was a fully formed Side, dammit, not one of the creations of the Imagination.

But would he be able to do it without drawing on his full power? He’d been willing to use that against Janus, or to make Thomas _pay attention,_ but—Dammit, he’d been working so hard to keep his influence on the Imagination general. Fears of the Dark, being lost or Something in the shadows but—Nothing specific. None of the deep down fears that were so much more terrifying than anything Remus could conjure, because they could be _real_. If Virgil had to use his full power here, he wasn’t sure if Thomas would ever recover.

“If?” Virgil whipped around. Stepping out from between the trees was Patton, looking sad but so very determined. “Virgil, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage already?”

“Patton?” Virgil said, trying to get his heart out of his throat. The surprise, the expression—something was _wrong_.

“You need to stop, Virgil,” Patton said, soft and unyielding. “You’ve hurt Thomas enough as it is.”

“What do you mean, ‘hurt Thomas’?”

“Did you really think you could come into the Imagination without Roman in control and _not_ hurt Thomas?” Patton asked, and the disappointment in his eyes _burned_. “Because you’re here, all of Thomas’s worst nightmares have been playing out in perfect detail, kiddo. How could you do that to him?”

“No!” Virgil insisted, heart going faster and faster. “They haven’t! I’ve been being careful.” All general, nothing specific. Not Thomas’s friends leaving him, or getting hurt in a way that meant Thomas couldn’t create, perform, _sing_ anymore, or his family rejecting Thomas for who he was and locking him out. Virgil had been _so careful_.

“Did you really think that you being loose in the Imagination would effect just what you can see?” Patton asked, gesturing wide. The flash of familiar purple in his hand stopped Virgil’s heart cold for a few seconds.

“Patton,” Virgil managed to force out as his heart restarted, going faster than ever. “Patton, what’s in your hand?” Because it couldn’t be what it looked like. _It couldn’t be_.

“This?” Patton said, holding up the key to Virgil’s room. Virgil’s vision started to tunnel—his breath couldn’t come fast enough. “Janus gave it to me. I don’t want to use this kiddo, but what you’re doing—hurting Thomas like this?—it’s _wrong_. And I can’t just sit back and let that happen. You need to go back to your room, Virgil.”

“But—Roman—” Virgil barely managed because he _couldn’t fucking breathe_.

“Roman’s going to be _fine,_ ” Patton tried to reassure him. “And if he’s really upset, do you really think he’d want to talk to _you?_ Look at what you’ve done to his favourite place.” Dark and twisted and _wrong_ and _all Virgil’s fault._ Virgil wanted to believe these were lies, but _Remus was keeping Janus away so Patton had to be telling the truth_. “Please don’t make me use this, Kiddo,” Patton said, still holding onto that damn key that was all Virgil could see. “I told Janus I would if I had to. After all, we both knew you wouldn’t attack a _real_ Light Side, even if you are letting your true colours show.”

It was too much—all too much—the words—the _truth_ —eating away at him. He couldn’t _breath_ —couldn’t see— _he was hurting Thomas_ —Roman was hurting—Virgil just made everything worse and he was going to be locked in his room forever and never let out ever again because they _did_ hate him and—

Darkness took Virgil. By then, it was a mercy.

***

“This isn’t _right,_ ” Patton said.

“What is incorrect?” Logan asked, moving one of his knights.

“Not that kind of right, Logan!” Patton replied, frowning adorably and _concerningly_. “I mean it’s Wrong.”

“You’re still going to have to be more specific,” Janus said, one eye on the Moral Side, one on the chessboard. His moved indeed.

“Roman’s been gone five days now, and we can all feel the Imagination getting Darker. Virgil’s hurting somewhere in there. We can’t just sit back and do nothing while our family is hurting!”

“We are doing something, Patton,” Janus soothed, turning away from the game of chess and back to a much more important one. “We’ve been keeping Thomas from noticing the darkness while he takes a much needed break.” And it was _working_. It took a toll on all of them, true, but Janus was down to only fractures, no breaks at all. Thomas’s reserves _were_ filling.

“So he’s just going to ignore the problem? How is that different from repression? Logan, you said yourself repression doesn’t work!”

“Were this pure repression, I’d agree with you, but an argument could be made that is it not,” Logan replied, turning away from the board himself. “While it is important to deal with your problems, it is _also_ important not to take on a problem you simply do not have the resources to solve. Ignoring the events leading up to the current situation… take the example of a broken leg. Yes, it does need to take some weight during the healing process, and eventually return to it’s regular weight bearing work, but too much weight, applied too soon, will only cause the leg to break again, and possibly cause a worse break than the original injury. Janus is Thomas’s self preservation. If he argues that Thomas, the figurative broken bone, is still too weak to take the figurative weight of this issue, then telling Thomas now could very well do more harm than good. Janus?”

“Thomas isn’t ready yet,” Janus replied quick and smooth and without a trace of the desperation he felt. “He’s definitely improved, but he needs more time.” Too much now and they’d all come tumbling down. If he could just get Patton to _wait_ —

“But it’s been getting worse! The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be to stop this from affecting Thomas. It’s not right to just sit here and _lie_.”

“You wound me,” Janus deadpanned as his heart rate picked up. Things were hard enough as it was, and if Patton started fighting Janus on this—Janus’s ribs twinged. No, Janus would do whatever it took to keep Thomas safe. If only his damn useless Keyring worked on a self locked door! He’d drag Roman out or Patton in and they could handle this without ever involving Thomas at all. But no, instead they were stuck in this mess.

_And whose fault is that, exactly?_

“Well what _would_ you have us do?” Logan asked, and Janus tensed. He did not want to have to lock Patton away—it would turn Logan on him if nothing else—but if Patton tried to force Thomas? Well, Janus had the Keyring for a _reason_.

“So we can’t tell Thomas,” Patton said, and Janus relaxed a little. “And we can’t go to Roman without Thomas’s help… What about helping Virgil? The longer he’s in the Imagination, the worse things get and two heads are better than one, right? Maybe I could go and help him find the door to Roman’s room faster!”

_Because there’s no way adding Heightened Emotions to a base of Fear could end badly. No, not at_ all.

“You might be right,” Logan said, and Janus turned to look sharply at him.

“Really?” Both he and Patton asked.

“Even with Remus’ help, we can only keep Virgil’s influence contained for so long, and Remus won’t surrender Virgil’s location to anyone he believes would stop Virgil on his ‘quest’ to help Roman. Patton? He wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Alright!” Patton said, smiling for the first time in a while. “I’m sure Virgil and I will be back with Roman in a jiffy! See you two soon-raccoon!”

And with that Patton slipped sideways into the Imagination.

Janus tasted the lie in the air. Patton wasn’t sure. He might hope, but with Roman out of the picture, even that much was unlikely.

“Try not to worry,” Logan said, returning to the game. “We both know how guilty he feels for not getting to Roman fast enough when this started. Letting him do something about that might help the condition of the Mindscape in general and, if anything should go wrong, I’ll pull him out. Really, Janus, we have nothing to worry about.” The scent of the lie hung thick in the air. “Your move.”

Janus moved a black pawn and wished that, for once, he wasn’t playing defense.

***

And then they were two.


	5. Logan

Patton started running as soon as he heard his own voice, loud in the dark forest that was this corner of Thomas’s Imagination. He wished Remus could have just transported him there directly instead of making him walk, because Virgil was hearing Patton’s voice saying those awful things and _Virgil was believing them_.

How could Virgil believe he would say _any of that?_

Patton broke through the last of the undergrowth separating him from Virgil and the thing pretending to be Patton just in time to see Virgil collapse. Patton barely noticed how _wrong_ the not him was, or the awful key in its hand before he was lunging forward to catch Virgil before he could hit his head or something. Virgil had already been hurt enough.

“You stay away from him!” Patton yelled turning to look at the Not Patton, but it was already gone. A quick look around showed no trace of it at all, and when Virgil whimpered in Patton’s arms, Patton looked down at his dark strange son.

“Hey Kiddo,” Patton said, pushing some of Virgil’s hair out of his eyes. The eyeshadow was so much darker than usual and Virgil looked so worn. “You’re okay.” Patton promised, “I’m here now, not that other thing. You can come back, it’s safe. You’re okay.”

Virgil’s eyes stayed closed, and his body stayed limp and Patton hurt all over seeing this.

“I’m sorry,” he said, starting to rocked them back and forth just a little, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before. I’m sorry I let Janus lock you up in your room. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” His breath caught in his throat, but he couldn’t stop. “I’m so so sorry I ever left room for even the tiniest doubt that I love you.” He brushed stupid, _useless_ tears away. He wasn’t Roman, who’s tears could heal like the Disney characters he loved. No, all they could do was make it harder for Patton to say what he needed to. What he should have said over and over again until Virgil _knew_ they were the truth. “I know you’re one of us, Kiddo. I know you’d never want to hurt Thomas or any of the rest of us. You’re _Good_ , Virgil. You always have been. You help us all in so many ways and I love you so much and I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

_Really?_ Asked a voice and Patton looked up. Blinked. Scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and blinked again. While he’d been holding Virgil and crying, the forest around them had faded into total darkness. What in the what?

“Of course!” Patton yelled out into this weird dark void thing.

_Even if it was the right thing to do? Even if not doing so would hurt others? What do you do when any choice you make hurts someone?_

It was then that Patton noticed the weight on his lap was lightening. Looking down, he saw that Virgil was fading.

“What? No! VIRGIL!” Patton yelled, trying to hold the fading body close, but his arms just passed right through and Patton was left sitting on a stone floor with no Virgil and a lot of tears.

_Test one: commencing_ said the voice from before. _Please approach the terminal._

Patton looked up and then around. The dark void thing was gone and he now sat in a stone room with one side a big window that let a weird red light in. In front of that window was a sorta pillar thing that was probably the terminal the voice had mentioned. With no better idea of how to get Virgil back, Patton approached it, but stopped in horror as he recognized the scene past the window.

From where he stood he could see a field of lava. Above the lava were train tracks. On one side of the room there was only one track, but about half way through the track split into two.

Virgil, awake and struggling, was tied to the main track.

Logan and Roman were tied to the other, struggling just as hard.

On the terminal in front of Patton was a single button labeled “Redirect the train”.

Patton ignored it and started trying to break through the glass.

His friends were down there, they needed him to get them out. They noticed him and started yelling for him to help them. But the glass didn’t even crack no matter how hard he pounded against it and—

From the tunnel with the main track, a whistle sounded and Patton could hear the train coming.

Virgil and Logan and Roman were all screaming—begging for him to save them.

Patton ran over to the terminal, desperately looking for some other button, some other option than the two he _couldn’t take_. Because if he didn’t press the button, _Virgil was going to die_. He’d promised Virgil he’d never hurt him. He couldn’t let him die! But if he did press the button, he’d be _killing Roman and Logan_. They would die and they’d know it was him who killed them and he _couldn’t choose and_ —

He looked up and across all the distance between himself and the tracks, Virgil was looking him right in the eye.

“PATTON!” Virgil screamed, and _Patton couldn’t pick, couldn’t choose, couldn’t—_ “PATTON, PLEASE HELP M—”

The train cut Virgil off—cut Virgil _up_ —but Patton _could still here the screaming_.

His knees gave out and he fell to the floor and threw up everything he’d eaten for a week.

He’d failed. He’d promised to keep Virgil safe and instead he’d just stood by and done _nothing_ while Virgil _died_. And the others had watched him do it.

It was too late to change anything now. He’d fai—

_Test one: failed_ said the voice, as if Patton didn’t already know. _Test two: commencing_.

Patton’s head snapped up. Test two? What test two?

Once again there was the whistle and the screaming beyond the glass. Patton lurched to his feet and over to the window. This time, Roman, Virgil and Logan were tied to the main track and Remus and Janus to the other.

No! Not again! He REFUSED to do this again! He was a Side, dammit, and the Imagination was his to control. All he needed to do was summon his power and they could all get out of here. He reached for his power, leaned into his certainty of Right and Wrong and…

It wasn’t there.

He panicked and threw himself deeper, but there was nothing there!

This should have been impossible! He was Morality! He always knew what the right choice was! He could make all this _stop_!

Outside, the train and the screams were getting louder and louder.

It had to be there, it had—

“DO SOMETHING!” One of the sides tied to the tracks yelled—Patton couldn’t tell which—and he ran back to the terminal. There had to be _something_.

Patton’s mind latched on to the sound of Virgil’s scream and _he couldn’t let it get cut off again_. Panicking, desperate, he pressed the button.

Below him, the track changed just in time and the train—

Bits of Janus and Remus fell away into the lava and now it was Patton who was screaming. _He’d killed them_. He’d pressed the button and _now they were dead and it was his fault_.

He was heaving again, but there was nothing left to bring up. He was a _monster._ He didn’t deserve to be _anyone’s_ Morality.

_Test two: failed_ said the voice. _Test three: commencing._

_***_

“It’s been too long,” Logan said. It was a fact, not a worry and damn him, he was _right._ 24 hours exactly since Patton had gone in after Virgil and the shadows had started creeping out of the Imagination and into the Mindscape proper. It was getting harder and harder to keep Thomas unaffected. “Will you let me go speak to Thomas? Of all Sides, I’m the most likely to explain this calmly and rationally.”

“Yes, because rationality is _exactly_ what Thomas needs right now,” Janus sneered. Thomas didn’t need facts, right now. He needed comforting lies. Logan, uninhibited by Virgil, explaining in great detail how bad things were? If Thomas learned what was going on in his mind while Virgil’s influence was still running rampant—Bad didn’t even come close to capturing the calamity that would entail.

Dammit, if only Remus had left Virgil in his damn room where Janus had left him until Thomas had healed enough for Janus to let him know what was going on with Roman!

“I agree,” Logan said, “So you’ll let me?”

“No, Logan, that was me living up to my title,” Janus said. “I will _not_ let you speak to Thomas about this.”

“Very well,” Logan said, standing and adjusting his glasses. “In that case, you leave me little choice but to go into the Imagination myself.”

“Into the Imagination? Without Roman providing it structure? You hate that.”

“As I said,” Logan replied, his eyes going hard. “You’ve left me little choice. This state of affairs cannot be allowed to continue. It was my hypothesis that allowing Patton to act in a way that would help alleviate his guilt would ameliorate the state of the Mindscape. The sudden increase in the rate of the spread of negativity indicates my hypothesis was incorrect. This cannot be allowed to continue. Since you will not allow me to speak to Thomas and get his help saving the others, I must act alone. I am going into the Imagination and either I will be able to pull them out and we can get to Roman, or…”

“Or?”

“Or you will be forced to act. You will not be able to stand by as Virgil’s essence corrupts the entirety of Thomas’s mind. Not even you would be able to hide that from him.”

Janus hissed at Logan. Not his most eloquent response, but more than justified, he thought.

Logan’s gaze never wavered. “Tell me, Janus. The path you’ve chosen has resulted in Roman, Virgil, Patton and, depending on what happens when I enter the Imagination, myself being deeply hurt. I understand you are doing this because you believe it protects Thomas, but how do you think Thomas will feel when he finds out what you’ve done? What do you think he’ll do, when he learns you took his choices from him and in doing so, let others get hurt?”

Before Janus could say anything, Logan was gone.

Staring at the place Logan had stood, Janus let out a small, disbelieving laugh. Logan had seemed to think the question would _hurt_. As if Janus didn’t already know Thomas would see him—had _always_ seen him—as a monster.

What Thomas thought of him didn’t matter. Janus would do what he had to, to keep Thomas safe. Just as he always did.

***

And then they were one.


	6. Janus

Logan finished his circuit of the large pillar of darkness that stood, as Remus had put it, in the ‘Center of the Bad’. There were no obvious doors, no reflections, no indication of what it could be made of. But Remus had said that Virgil and Patton were at the center, so there had to be _some_ way in.

He raised a finger and pressed gently against the pillar. He met no resistance until he tried to pull his finger back. It wouldn’t let him. He gave his arm a jerk. The column jerked back with equal force, pulling his entire hand into the darkness. He froze, braced his feet and thought quickly.

The pillar would not release him, fighting it seemed to make it stronger and it was taking him where he wanted to go, at least in theory. Helpless panicked flailing would be neither helpful nor his style. He took a deep breath and stepped into the pillar.

After a moment, the darkness before Logan’s eyes fell away and he was met with a familiar scene (though why the trolley problem had presented over a field of _lava_ of all thing, Logan had no idea).

He floated (because if the laws of thermodynamics weren’t going to apply, why would the laws of gravity?) above two tracks, Thomas tied to one and what he could only assume to be facsimiles of Virgil, Janus, Remus, Roman and Logan himself tied to the other. From a tunnel in one wall, Logan heard the whistle of a train.

As if there were any philosophical merit to such hypothetical. They were all part of Thomas. It would be impossible to kill one without dooming the other. The inherent logic of the premise was flawed, and as such, it had no power over him.

A movement caught his eye. There was a difference between this scene and the one Thomas had been presented with. This time, there was a room off the lava chamber, and in it, Patton was looking down at the tracks, shaking his head slightly as tears streamed down from eyes even Logan recognized as disturbingly empty. He suddenly knew that this was far from the first time Patton had watched this scene unfold. Logan had logic and object impermanence and an _understanding of the point of this philosophical thought experiment_ protect him. Patton did _not._ Logan wasn’t going to let Patton go through this again.

He held out a hand exerted his power. Imagination didn’t have to follow the rules of Logic, it was true, but he was a fully formed Side and he could push back against it’s influence. Around them, the scene dissolved.

They found themselves standing in the clearing that had contained the dark pillar.

Patton blinked at the ground, frowning slightly as reality (if you could call it that in the imagination) started to creep in.

“Patton?” Logan asked, hoping to draw his attention. He needed to get them out and get them out soon, but he couldn’t do that before they found Virgil and right now, Patton was his best lead into the location of the other Side.

Patton turned to look at him with a terrifying slowness. Patton should not move that slowly or stiffly or… brokenly. Logan had been wrong to leave things so long. A ruinous miscalculation of the costs and forces at play. His logic had been flawed. He would not allow it to be so again.

“Logan?” Patton asked in a broken whisper. “Logan, I couldn’t save them.”

“Patton, there was no one there to save.” Logan did his best to make his voice as soft as he could, memories of the most effective tone to calm Thomas with flicking through his mind. “We’re in the Imagination, Patton. None of this is real.”

For a fraction of a second, Logan thought he saw the information get through to Patton, but then Patton’s eyes flicked to something behind Logan and Patton _keened,_ lurching to his feet and scrambling past where Logan stood.

Logan turned and saw Patton fall to his knees next to Virgil’s body. (Body: Noun. 1. The physical structure of a person or an animal including the bones, flesh and organs. 2. Corpse.)

Logan pushed the thought aside—the Sides didn’t have physical structures. Virgil was unconscious, that was all. Besides, Patton had pulled Virgil’s _unconscious_ body into his lap and was saying things that weren’t true. Things Logan needed to address _now_.

“I’m so sorry,” Patton choked out, rocking back and forth, “I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I’m a worthless Morality who couldn’t figure out the right thing to do. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I _killed you_. I’m sorry Virgil, I’m so sorry.”

“Patton, _none of it was real_.” Logan tried to reassure Patton, but Patton was far past listening. Logan wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for reasoning so badly. Still he would repeat the facts in the hope that Patton would _listen_. “We’re in the Imagination, Patton. None of this is rea—” He reached out and froze as he noticed his hand. One of his fingers was missing.

After a second, it was there again. He flexed his fingers. It definitely hadn’t been there a moment before, but now his hand seemed to be normal. He reached out with his other hand, needing to know more about what was going on, but as it approached, the first hand flickered—gone and there and gone again.

He jerked his other hand back. If his hand was trying to take the same space as something that already existed when it came back—two objects could not occupy the same space at the same time. They were in the Imagination, yes, but there were still _limits_. Logan did not want to know what that experience would entail.

_Limbs severed, as one apparition made it impossible for another to appear. Bits of him falling to the ground. Losing himself by pieces._

The spread of the flickering moved up to his forearm and he quickly held it away from his body.

“Patton,” Logan said, “Patton, we need to leave. Now.”

“Logan?” Patton asked, turning to look over his shoulder at where Logan was starting to lose his integrity (Integrity: Noun. 1. The quality of being honest. 2. The state of being whole and _undivided)_. “Logan, what’s going on with you arm?”

“I _don’t know_ ,” Logan said, and his breath was coming too fast—18, no 22 breaths per minute. He needed to slow his breathing, but he couldn’t use his hands to create an obstruction. This _shouldn’t be happening._ Bits of bodies did not start disappearing and reappearing randomly. _That was not how the world worked_.

“Logan!” And Patton was letting go of Virgil and rushing towards him.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Logan yelled, trying to get away. He didn’t know what would happen if Patton was in the space his body tried to reoccupy but it couldn’t be good. He needed space, needed _things to make sense again_. He needed—

The ground underneath him became unsteady as one of his _feet_ flickered out of existence and he _fell_.

One hand was there to catch him as he fell. The other was not.

Not until his forearm which hadn’t flickered in time with his hand made contact with the ground and _his hand came back_.

The earth did not move to make room for his hand so much as they were both there. Hand and earth inextricably fused and _he couldn’t make it stop_.

Hand and Earth and Impossible sensory information flooded his brain as Patton screamed and screamed and screamed.

None of this made sense, none of this was _real_ , and _he couldn’t stop any of it_.

His other arm flickered, and a leg and Logan was becoming less Side and more earth and _he couldn’t move_. He couldn’t _scream_.

He couldn’t function.

He was never meant to function in Uncontrolled Imagination. Mercifully, he finally stopped.

***

Janus sat in the too dark, almost emptied Mindscape and looked at his Keyring.

Once, before things had started to go so horribly wrong, he’d imagined Roman referring to him as ‘Janus and the Technicolour Keyring’, if Roman ever knew him as anything more Deceit. As a Side to be included and given a nickname with more love and hate. Roman had never resented Janus as much for what had happened to Mars, after all. Not when Roman got to step into the light instead of being shackled in the dark.

In the courtroom, where they’d both been working for what was best for Thomas, he’d let himself hope that that day would come. And then—

His name. Spoken because Thomas needed it. Because the others needed it. And because Virgil had been right, not that he’d known Janus was listening.

‘When you lo-care for someone not much hurts more than their scorn.’

So what if Janus hadn’t been in the room during that musical interlude? He was always listening when the Sides spoke to Thomas. How else would he know when to shut them up?

It was funny. Deceit was the title he’d chosen, all those years ago, and subterfuge was his modus operandi, but there was little he wanted more than to be accepted. Of course, the only thing he did want more was the price he would have had to pay to get it. He couldn’t abandon Thomas or allow him to break, so he’d done what he had to.

But in that one moment, that one glorious, crystal clear _false_ moment, he thought he could have it all. And so he told them his name.

And Roman had lashed out.

Any other attack, Janus could have taken. But their names were what stopped them from being any random passing thought. Their names were at the center of them. And so when Roman attacked Janus’s center, Janus had done the same. Not Roman’s name, no, but his sense of self. And Janus more than anyone knew how fragile that could be.

On his keyring, Roman’s key was a red so dark to be almost black, and it gave off no light at all.

It was the key of a side who had ducked out themselves. There was no matching lock for it, not now, and the key held no power in it. Janus had looked for the door, for the lock, for a way to _stop this shit show from happening_ , but there wasn’t any. The only way into the room now was through Thomas.

Janus shied away from the thought, and looked at the other keys on his ring.

Remus’s flared more a toxic green brighter than Janus had ever seen it, but even that had a halo of red. He’d never been able to split Remus and Roman entirely. In the dark of Mars’ room, when he’d come to terms with the fact that this idea was the only one that would work, there was one strand he could never cut.

Mars had screamed and screamed and then one scream in two bodies, two voices and then the work was done.

Thomas would no longer have to deal with ideas he couldn’t bear entertaining. Janus had given these new Sides names. The one he gave to Patton, the one Thomas would learn to love, he’d named Roman. Yes, let that one be named for the twin who would kill his brother and go on to build a legacy that would last millennia. Janus took Remus, the sacrificial brother who’s damnation was bought at one transgression too many, alone into the darkness of the Subconscious, into a room that hadn’t existed before this night which matched one of the new Keys on his Keyring.

Janus hadn’t known if he could cry. Snakes didn’t, after all. He’d never cried before—not when his rib had broken for the first time, not when he’d locked any of the others away, not when he’d started to wonder if Thomas would ever see and accept him.

Holding Remus for the first and last time in that dark and half formed room, he’d learned he could.

And now Remus was fighting for the brother Janus had taken from him. That red halo surrounding the light of his Key showed just how hard Remus was trying. Pushing himself to be more than he was—fighting to be a hero who could save his brother and keep Anxiety at bay.

But Remus was never meant to be a Hero and he was loosing.

No matter how brightly Remus’s key shone, Virgil’s shone all the brighter.

Virgil who wanted nothing more than to keep them _safe_. Virgil who saw danger everywhere and tried to protect them from it.

Virgil who had once been willing to make a tragic, _beautiful_ sacrifice to keep Thomas safe. One Janus understood all too well.

“ _You need to lock me away,_ ” _Virgil had told him. “I can’t risk freaking out and leaving my room. If you lock the door before I duck out, even if I try to get out I won’t be able to, right? This way, even if I want to, I won’t be able to hurt Thomas again. That’s your whole thing, right? To stop us from hurting Thomas?”_

_Janus hadn’t said any of the arguments that slid across his mind. Virgil would never have believe a truth he wanted to hear from one with the title of Deceit. Far easier to give him a lie that fed into his world view, when the end result would be the same._

“ _Of course,” Janus had lied, pulling out his Keyring. “I think it’s best for everyone if you aren’t involved anymore.”_

_He’d locked the door and waited, watching as the lock disappeared and the key dimmed and darkened. The Light Sides would realize what had happened and make Thomas come and get Virgil as soon as they had. And then they would all know Virgil’s worth and importance and Virgil could stop having to fight them to make sure he was listened to. So Virgil would hate him afterwards, so what? That could be used to keep Thomas safe too, and Janus would do whatever it took to make sure that happened. He always did what he had to._

And now here he was looking at the consequences of his choices. Virgil had been accepted and they’d learned to value him. Value him so much, in fact, that Patton and Logan were willing to risk an Imagination influenced with Fear to get him back. Janus should have locked Patton away, should have tried harder to convince him, should have done _something_ to stop Patton from going into the Imagination like that. But he hadn’t, and now he could see Patton’s light blue key horribly dim and tinged purple. Patton hadn’t been in the Imagination for more than 15 minutes before he’d succumbed to Fear and sped it’s encroachment on the rest of Thomas’s Mind.

Logan was Janus’s last hope. Pure Logic and Pure Imagination were never meant to interact without a filter, but Logan was also Thomas’s best defense against Thomas’s wilder fear fueled imaginings.

If Logan could pull Patton and Virgil out, Janus could sweep in and lock Remus away until Thomas had finished healing. Janus could almost breath easily again, his ribs giving him only the smallest of twinges. They were so close!

In his hand, Logan’s key flared dark blue before dimming and taking on that terrible purple tinge.

Janus let out a small, bitter laugh.

He’d tried. God knew he’d tried. He’d fought and schemed, lied and manipulated and _sacrificed_ and it _hadn’t worked_.

There was no way to keep this from Thomas now. Not in any long term kind of way. At this point, any delaying tactics would just make the whole thing even worse when it broke through.

Janus just had to hope that Thomas had healed enough that he could take the weight without shattering.

On the Keyring, Janus’s own Key caught his eye.

No. That wasn’t the only choice.

There was one piece left to play. One last sacrifice that might leave Thomas hurt and possibly even broken, but not beyond repair.

So it would hurt like hell, so it would cost Janus everything he’d ever thought to gain, so what? If it worked, it was a price Janus was willing to pay.

Give Thomas just enough information to make him wonder about Roman—enough to make Roman’s room have a lock again that Janus could open. Enough that, once Thomas had looked after Roman, Roman would know to go rescue the others. Slip Thomas in and then slip out again with Thomas’s memory of the words spoken, if not the feelings he’d had.

Thomas would reject Janus after this, of course. And so would all the others. It would leave Janus broken and alone—but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that.

One moment of shining glory didn’t erase a lifetime of experience.

He didn’t bother wondering if one day he might be accepted back into the fold. The problem with being able to sense lies is that you always knew when you were doing it to yourself.

He slipped his Keyring away and shifted into the real world, appearing next to Thomas.

He was playing Stardew Valley and a half eaten meal from that subscription box he liked so much was sitting next to his computer. He was relaxed and smiling and Janus wished he could let him stay that way. But if Janus didn’t act now, the eventual fall would be so much worse.

“Janus?” Thomas said, pausing the game and turning to face him. “I really wasn’t expecting you. I mean, I’ve spent the past six days relaxing, cooking, playing video games like you wanted me to. I mean, if anything I’ve kinda been waiting for one of the others to show up and tell me to get back to work…”

Janus took the last breath that was going to be anything close to easy for who knew how long and spoke.

“The others can’t come right now. I’m afraid they’re rather,” A smirk, one he knew Thomas would see as villainous. “Occupied at the moment.”

Thomas stared at him in horror and the first traces of anger. They wouldn’t be the last. “Janus… What did you _do?”_

As the first rib snapped in his chest, Janus spun his web of lies.

***

And then they were none.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Alright, Meia,' you ask. 'How are you going to pull all of this together in just two more chapters?'
> 
> 'Easy!' I reply, 'You just make the last two chapters be about as long as the first 6 combined!'
> 
> In other words, look for a wonderfully long chapter tomorrow (assuming I can manage to edit it in time)


	7. Roman

Roman sat alone in his too dark room and tried to ignore, well, everything. Everything that reminded him of Thomas’s hopes and dreams (which was everything in this room. Song lyrics danced near the ceiling and the posters that plastered almost every square inch of wall played scenes from their shows), and everything that _hurt_.

Which was, in all honesty, _everything_.

Not a physical pain, Roman was more or less used to _physical_ pain by now—Thomas was a very sensitive person and Roman was more than used to being a Bruised Ego, but this?

There wasn’t a mark on him but he hurt and hurt and _hurt_.

Thomas neither wanted him nor needed him and it _hurt_.

Maybe someday, it wouldn’t. Maybe someday he would be able to walk out of his room again and have that not matter. Hell, if he was indulging in unrealistic fantasies, maybe the other Sides would come to love him the way he dreamed of.

It hurt to hope, but Hope was part of what he was and he couldn’t escape that. Not here anyway.

But what was the point of hope? Hope just kept this wound from scabbing over and starting to heal.

_Six days_ since Roman and ducked out and it still hurt just as much as it had the first day.

Roman hoped Virgil was doing alright, managing to keep the others safe while Thomas broke bread with a snake.

A snake Thomas would rather have at the table than someone as over the top as Roman. Passionate, driven, creative yes, but always and most of all _too much_. Logan thought he was over dramatic, even for the Side responsible for such things and Patton? Patton thought Roman was Wrong for pushing Thomas the way he did when it might hurt others. And then there was Virgil. Virgil hated him for constantly dragging Thomas out of his comfort zone. At least Virgil didn’t hate him so much he wouldn’t look after the others. Roman couldn’t face any of that right now.

Patton might have been the center of a lot of Thomas’s feelings, but Passion? Passion was all Roman’s.

He loved the others with everything he was, even if he couldn’t figure out how to show it. Roman would always put himself first instinctually—he was Ego for Sondheim’s sake!—but there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep them safe. It hurt that they didn’t return the sentiment.

Roman threw himself back on his bed and moaned. He wanted the pain to _stop_.

But eventually the moan ran out and the pain ran on and he was left alone in a silent room that should have been filled with sound.

Into that silence slithered the sound of a door unlocking.

_The Hell?_

That door hadn’t even _had_ a lock moments ago, had it? It shouldn’t have had one until Roman had decided to come out again, which he most certainly hadn’t.

He went over to examine it, wondering what could have caused the sudden change. He had just reached the door when it swung open.

“You!?” Roman exclaimed, recoiling as he saw Deceit standing in his doorway. Even Roman wasn’t sure if that was an accusation or a question.

“I’ve forgiven you for making fun of my name,” the snake lied, “And I’m not willing to risk everything to get you back.”

Before Roman could puzzle _that one_ out, Deceit had vanished and revealed that Thomas had been standing right behind him. Roman froze. Thomas didn’t want him, didn’t _need_ him, didn’t—

Thomas stepped forward and pulled Roman into a very strong hug. Despite the rib crushing, for the first time in days, Roman felt the hurt start to lessen.

“I love you so much,” Thomas said, holding Roman so very close. “I’m sorry I ever let you feel like I didn’t. You’ve always had my back no matter what, pushing me to do things I never could have dreamed of without you. Because of you, because of your drive, I have a life doing what I love, surrounded by people who love it too. If it weren’t for your faith in me, in _us_ , I would still be working as a manufacturing engineer—which was interesting, sure, but it wasn’t _fulfilling_. I—we—God, I don’t even know which pronoun to use—have been putting _way too much_ pressure on you. You’re not my Morality, Roman, you’re my Hopes and Dreams and _it’s ok for you to want me to achieve those_. That’s your _job_. No one has ever believed in me as much as you do, _least of all_ me. I will never let you forget how much I love you again. You _are_ my hero, Roman, and you always have been.”

For the first time in his life, Roman was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“You’ve always been here for me, buddy,” Thomas said, showing no signs of wanting to let go. “Let me be here for you.”

That broke Roman, but it was the break of a badly healed bone being reset so it could become strong.

He gripped Thomas back just as tightly as he was being held—harder even—and began to cry.

Thomas began to talk again and Roman let the words wash over him as the tears flowed out. Thomas told him how he was brave and passionate, loyal and strong. He talked about all the things they would do together in the days to come, the plays, the songs, the stories. He promised to put aside time once a week, every week, just to improv together, because it was fun and it would good for both of them and most of all because Roman wanted to.

Slowly, the hurt that had been deep inside Roman since the wedding eased, and the tears turned from a steady stream to the occasional drop. Roman just… leaned against Thomas and listened. Yes, he was a prince and he could handle whatever the world threw at them, but even princes sometimes needed the support of their friends. Besides, listening to Thomas monologue was… nice.

“And you were _absolutely right_ about Janus,” Thomas said, and _that_ caught Roman’s attention. He pulled back just enough to give Thomas a confused look.

“I was?” He asked. Not that he’d ever doubted himself, but what had Deceit done to tip his hand so quickly? Normally that reptilian rapscallion played a better long game—Now that he thought about it, what had been going on with the weirdness at the door? ‘Willing to risk everything to get you back’?

“Roman, I promise you, the only reason I wasn’t here earlier is that Janus hid that you were hurting from me. He’s been keeping the other Sides from talking to me about it too, or I would have been here _so much sooner_. I _never_ should have trusted him!”

“And he… told you this?” Roman asked. He might not be Logan, but he was no idiot either.

“I’m the boss, right? Virgil said that any information I want to know, I can, and once I knew that there was something wrong—”

“Yes, but how did you _find out_ there was something wrong?” There was something very fishy going on here.

“He… he came to me.” Thomas said, frowning. “ He said that the other Sides were occupied and he needed you to go get them. That he’d bring me to you directly to make sure I didn’t end up in Remus’s room accidentally or something.”

“Occupied? What do you mean, occupied?”

“I…” Thomas was frowning, “I… I can’t remembe—”

Roman stepped forward and put his hand on Thomas’s forehead. They weren’t in Patton’s room, where even the memories Deceit took away could be found if you spent long enough looking, but he was _Creativity_ damn it. He could take the broken pieces and make them whole, as long as Deceit had left something there to start with.

Fading fast, Roman found the edges of the memory of the conversation and _pulled_.

Before them, a hologram of Janus stood, looking at someone they couldn’t see and smirking in a way that made Roman’s blood run cold.

“The other Sides went looking for Roman, you see, and asked Remus to help them. Such a _clever_ idea on their part, as Remus is such a _wonderful_ guide. But they’ll all stop running around like headless chickens if they know Roman’s alright. Really, so much fuss for one Side…”

Rage swept through Roman then. How _dare_ that Snake—No. Wait.

Something still wasn’t right.

The Sides _shouldn’t be able_ to get lost in Thomas’s Mind. The only one who could take away their powers was Deceit, but if this _wasn’t_ Deceit—Why was _Remus_ acting as a gui—

Roman’s eyes darted to the one bit of wall that had nothing on it at all. A rectangle just big enough for a child to walk through or an adult to squeeze through, if it opened up.

No.

They wouldn’t.

None of them would be that _stupid!_

They all had at least _some_ sense of self preserva—

“ _Deceit is an inner coach that acts with the one intention of self preservation._ ”

If they’d all peen pushing back against Deceit and none of them had any _Hope_ (and whose fault was that, hm?) then—

“Thomas, I need you to go back to the real world and do something _incredibly distracting_ , alright?”

Roman would just go check quickly. Remus would tell him that Janus had mislead them all _again_ and all of his friends would be _fine_ and they could all sit around and plot appropriate revenges on the snake for scaring them.

Not even Roman could convince himself of something so blatantly ridiculous.

“Roman, wha—”

“Thomas, _please,_ ” Roman said, eyes flicking around the room—his sword, where was his sword? “I need to go check something, but I’ll be back soon, I promise. Just… go distract yourself. Why not watch Megamind? It’s been a while and the movie’s _hilarious_.” If Roman was wrong, watching the movie wouldn’t do Thomas any harm, but if Roman was _right?_ Probably for the best not to let Thomas’s Imagination wander.

But instead of leaving so that Roman could go save themselves, Thomas was crossing his arms and looking stubborn.

“Dammit Roman, I love you forever, but I’m getting _really tired_ of my brain hiding things from me!”

“Fine!” Roman snapped back, because they _really couldn’t afford to be wasting time here. “_ I think the other Sides have done something _incredibly stupid_ while I hid in my room to lick my wounds and if I’m right—and GOD I hope I’m not, because Imagination without Hope is a _dangerous_ thing, but I can’t think of another reason Janus would have told you what was going on with me—then I need to get to them and _soon_. The best think you can do for _all of us_ is to go distract yourself until we all come back!”

Thomas stared at Roman, mouth hanging open, but Roman didn’t have time to care or coddle because he’d spotted his sword. He stalked over to it and pulled it from the pile of stuff it had ended up in. It gleamed proudly in the now bright lights of the room.

“Go!” Roman told him, “I’m going to save the others.”

Thomas’s expression firmed and he sank out of the room. Roman had no time to waste. Sword in hand, he slipped sideways into the Imagination.

He appeared at the edge of a storm and froze, staring in horror.

It was huge, stretching ahead of him as far as he could see. It was dark and foreboding with lighting that had angles that were too sharp, too precise slicing through the clouds and at the center of it a darkness so black no light could enter in. What had _happened_ in the days he’d been gone? How could it have gotten so bad, so fast?

“Long time no see, Bro,” said Remus from behind him and Roman turned to look at his brother. Remus was smiling something more genuine than his usual demented grin, but it did nothing to hide how exhausted and haggard he looked. “Glad to see you back to your old ridiculously wholesome self. Now, stop leaving your shit in my room. Imagination’s a lovely place to borrow, but I wouldn’t want to keep it.”

Remus reached up to his chest to pull a shape—ever shifting and never quite recognizable, every possible colour and none of them all at once and so _painfully_ familiar—but Roman crashed into him before he finish pulling it out.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said, holding his brother close again—again? Had he _ever_ done this before? “Thank you for looking after things while I was off being an idiot.”

“Jeez, bro, you’re gonna make me leaky,” Remus said, faining casualness badly. “Don’t you wanna get your friends outta the shit storm they made of this place?”

“I think something this long overdue takes precedence,” Roman replied, giving Remus one last squeeze before pulling back. “Now, you willing to help clean up my mess?”

“Yeah, you should really leave making those to me, Ro. I’m _so_ much better at it.” Remus said, before pulling out the achingly familiar piece that Roman had given up 6 days ago and tossing it to Roman. Roman caught it and brought it up to his chest where it burrowed happily in.

_Welcome home_.

Awareness of the Imagination—all of it—spread through Roman and the feeling of being whole again was _incredible_.

But the Imagination was going _wrong_.

Once, years ago, Logan had been reading something with an image that had piqued Roman’s interest and he’d asked what it was. ‘A gravity well’, Logan had told him, before insisting on explaining what one was and how it worked. That’s what the other’s presence in the Imagination felt like—Virgil was dragging everything down and down and everything was falling in after him. Patton was in that well and Logan too, and Roman needed to get them out _now_. Hell, he needed to get them out six days ago, apparently.

He turned to his brother. “I know you’re tired, but I could use your help on this one.”

Remus went very still.

“You could?” he asked. There was none of the silly, scary, demented, frenetic energy about him that was normally so constant. Not even the tinges of anger or worry that had been there when Roman had handed over the Imagination. No, all he could see in his brother now was the terrifying vulnerability of hope. God, they were going to have to get better at this. All of them.

“Yes. Now, get your morning star. I don’t know what we’ll be facing and we have to save the others.”

“Way ahead of you,” Remus replied, pulling his morning star out from—Roman decided not to think about where.

“Excellent. Let’s go.”

Roman grabbed his brother’s hand and shifted the Imagination around them.

The clearing they found themselves in when the movement stopped—Well, bleak didn’t even cover it.

The trees were dead, the grass was dead, even the ground beneath their feet felt dead. Dark desolation had fallen over this place, and the only living things were the Sides gathered there and—

Roman’s heart panged at the sight of them.

Logan was flickering in and out of existence in bits and pieces, half submerged in the ground. Patton was curled up into a ball crying and behind him lay Virgil, right in the center of the clearing, the only sign he was even alive the very shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Roman knew that all of this had been building for a while, _knew_ he couldn’t have made them not chose this, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty.

“That’s your cue, Ro,” Remus said, leaning back against a tree and taking a bite of what looked to be a human heart, morning star no where in sight. “They’ve never found me anything like comforting.”

Right. It didn’t matter how much of this was or wasn’t his fault. He was the only one who could safe them now.

“Maybe save the snack till later?” He told Remus, vanishing his own sword. “And no, it won’t help that you’ve brought enough for everyone.”

Remus grinned and tucked away the extra hearts he’d pulled out.

Roman took a deep breath and sunk into his awareness of the Imagination. Virgil was still deep in the gravity well of Fear, but at least his descent had stopped. Above them, the storm had stopped growing, and Roman’s presence in the Imagination was slowly pulling Virgil out. _Too_ slowly. They didn’t have the time to waste, but Virgil was too deep for Roman to be able to pull him straight out. Even Patton was just beyond his grasp. But Logan? He might have a chance with Logan.

Roman went over to kneel next to his friend’s glitching body and waited for his arm to reappear. When it did, Roman grabbed it and pulled, muscles and mind. Logan was whole and his and the Imagination was going to give. Him. _Back_.

The snap of the Imagination bowing to his desires shot through Roman in the best soft of way as Logan’s body was suddenly whole and lying _on_ the ground, not as part of it.

Logan didn’t wake up though. Roman couldn’t entirely blame him. For Logan more than any of them that had to have been… unnerving wouldn’t be a strong enough word, not even for Logan. Traumatic probably came closer.

Still, Roman had an idea that might speed up Logan’s recovery.

He rolled Logan onto his side, untucked his shirt, pulled it up to reveal Logan’s lower back, and smiled.

There, just where it would be on a Soong-type android, was an power button. Roman couldn’t help but smile as he pressed it. He’d always wanted to try this.

He waited for a slow ten count and pressed the button again. Time to see if ‘turning it off and on again’ was really as effective as they said.

Logan let out the notes from the chorus of the Crofters song they’d written and Roman snorted. Of _course_ that was Logan’s start up sound.

Still, Roman didn’t think that Logan would want to wake up to being touched and disheveled, so he pulled Logan’s shirt back down and pulled away a little, waiting for his favourite Supernova finish booting up.

It took a minute or so, but eventually Logan did start to move again. First, a flex of his fingers, then a shake of his head, and then jerking upright.

Even expecting it, Roman jumped.

“Glad you’re back with us, Supercomputer,” Roman said, managing to keep his voice surprisingly level and light.

Logan whirled around and Roman was going to remember this expression the next time Logan said he didn’t have any feelings, even if he wouldn’t bring it up.

“Roman?” Logan asked.

“In the flesh! Or, whatever we actually are.” Because Logan would care about accuracy and Roman could give him this—wanted to give him this, right now. “Janus took Thomas to me and as soon as I knew what was going on, I came to get all of you out of here.”

“It worked then,” Logan said, sagging.

“What worked, Logan?” Roman said, tensing. Because there was no way Logan meant what Roman thought he did.

“I went in after Patton, thinking I could pull both him and Virgil out. I… miscalculated badly, but knowing that I couldn’t be certain I would succeed, my backup plan was forcing Janus’s hand when it came to Thomas. In either outcome, everyone would be saved.”

“You IDIOT!” Roman yelled, leaving Logan blinking and unimpressed, “How could you risk yourself like that? The unfiltered Imagination is more dangerous to you than any other Side on a normal day, never mind when Virgil’s been influencing it unhindered—well, mostly unhindered.” He gave Remus an acknowledging nod, because dammit he wasn’t going to start ignoring his brother’s contributions again. He didn’t need to know details to know that Remus had been keeping things contained. If he hadn’t, things would have been much worse. “You were _glitching_ by the time I got here, Logan. What would have happened if I couldn’t have made you _stop?_ How do you think Thomas or any of the rest of us would go on without you? Yes, you and I fight and fight often, but I _know_ how important your influence is to making sure Thomas makes _good_ choices. How do you think Thomas would cope without his Logical Side?”

“Probably about as well as he’d cope without his Hopes and Dreams,” Logan replied, giving Roman the same unimpressed look. “We are all equally important, Roman. Once Thomas knows about us, we are _needed_ at the figurative table. If this was the only way to ensure we got you back, then it was the… logical choice.”

“It was a stupid risk.” Roman countered, and Logan looked away. There was something there, something they were going to have to deal with—later. Right now, he still had two others to save. Roman reached out and placing his hand lightly on Logan’s shoulder. “Thank you for taking it.”

The Fear finally released Logan, as he turned back to look at Roman with just a hint of hope in his eyes. It was enough.

“Remus,” Roman said, turning to look at his brother. “Can you get Logan out of here? I don’t want to leave until they’re all out. Take him to Thomas, I doubt Janus will try to stop us now. Come back when you’re done?”

“You got it,” Remus said, coming over and offering Logan a hand. “Let’s fly.”

“Why would we fly?” Logan asked, frowning up at Remus. “I thought you planned to take me out of the Imagination. Flight can only happen her—”

Remus rolled his eyes, grabbed Logan by the shoulder, and they both vanished.

Roman took a moment to sigh. They had so much work to do. But it would come in it’s own time.

He looked over a Patton, who was now in a place that Roman could reach him. He was still crying, still curled up, still hurting, but he could be helped. Roman never should have left and let this happen, but he had, and now they were all going to get through this anyway.

What had worked for Logan would never work for Patton, so instead, Roman walked over, crouched down, and pulled Patton into the kind of hug Thomas had given him.

Patton grabbed his tunic and froze.

“Ro..Roman?” Patton asked.

“Hey there, Padre,” Roman said, rubbing comforting circles into Patton’s back. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

“Roman,” and now for some reason Patton was shaking even harder than before. “Roman, I’m so sorry. None of this would have happened if I was better and now everyone got hurt just because I wasn’t—”

“Woah woah woah there,” Roman said, pulling back just enough to look at Patton, who wouldn’t meet his eye. “How could any of this _possibly_ be described as your fault?”

“I pushed Thomas too hard, and I hurt you and then I didn’t get to you fast enough to fix it. If I’d just been _better_ no one would have needed to get hurt. Why can’t I be _good enough!_ ”

It hurt, hearing his own thoughts in Patton’s mouth. Roman wondered just how many of them felt the same way. But still, after six days he knew what they both needed to hear.

“Patton,” And when Patton still wouldn’t look at him, Roman gently took his chin and _made_ him. “Patton, you couldn’t have stopped this. All of this—my ducking out, everything that happened after—it’s been building for a long time now. I don’t think any one of us could have stopped it.”

Hope flared in Patton’s eyes for one glorious second before it died and he looked away again.

“I’m still not good enough,” Patton said, with a kind of horrifying acceptance that Roman would not let stand. “Virgil believed I’d hurt him, I hurt Thomas and… and when the Imagination took me, I couldn’t get _out_. I kept getting it wrong and hurting all of you _over_ and _over_ again and… Maybe you’d all be better off without me.”

“Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day,” Roman said, not needing to know what the Imagination had shown Patton to know Patton was wrong. Patton’s gaze snapped back to him. “If we’ve learned _anything_ from this it’s that Thomas needs _all_ of us. And more than that, we all need each other. Every single one of us, and Thomas most of all, would be absolutely _devastated_ by your loss, Patton, so don’t you dare go anywhere.”

“You don’t _understand_ ,” Patton wailed. “Every choice I make is wrong! How can I push Thomas to make what I _think_ is the right choice when I _know_ I can be wrong? When my _being_ wrong gets people hurt? He might call me Morality, but all I am is a bunch of useless feelings and lessons he learned as a kid. Logan and Janus? They can help him make _smart_ choices—”

“But they can’t help him make the _right_ choice,” Roman interrupted. “Or…” He paused, working through his thoughts as quickly and carefully as he could. If there was ever a time to find the Right Words, it was now. “Or maybe it’s not about the Right choice. Maybe it’s about the _best_ choice. Sometimes… Sometimes someone is going to get hurt no matter what you do. And that doesn’t mean you’re awful, it just means it’s life.

“Thomas cares about people. He always has and he always will. He can’t _not_ and still be Thomas. He needs you at the table Patton, so he can stay true to himself and make at least an _informed_ decision, even if it isn’t the one you first thought was best.”

Roman took a deep breath and hoped what he was going to say would help. He hadn’t been able to listen to these words, but hopefully Patton would. “Everything’s gonna be okay, Patton. We love you.”

And now Patton was crying again, but now it was a good cry—relief and not despair. Roman pulled Patton close and let him work some of this out through his tears as he climbed slowly out of the well of Fear. Eventually, Patton pulled back and gave Roman a shaky, but definitely hopeful smile. Roman smiled right back.

“It really is gonna be okay, isn’t it?” Patton asked.

“With a little time and a lot of love, how could it be otherwise?” Roman told him with a smile before turning to address the clearing at large. “Remus?”

Remus appeared beside them, smiling his usual demented smile, with just a touch of genuine emotion thrown in.

“Took ya long enough. The Big Guy’s waiting for a full head count—minus the Bullshit Boa of course, he doesn’t want to see his scaly ass again this century—so hurry up with Virge.”

“Roman?” Patton asked.

“You go with Remus,” Roman reassured, handing Patton off. “I’m going to help Virgil now, okay?”

“Okay,” Patton said, giving Roman’s hand one last squeeze. “Try not to take too long, ok? Like you said, Thomas needs all of us at the table.”

Yes, Roman reflected, Thomas _did_. But that was something to think about after he’d finished his work here.

“Remus, come back to get Virgil when you’ve dropped off Patton, ok?”

“Why don’t you just bring him? You can get outta here just as easily as me.” Remus said.

Roman gave his brother a _look_.

Realization dawned.

“No,” Remus said, hard and final and leaving no room for argument.

“We’ll talk about this after,” Roman pushed back anyway. Because _dammit_ he knew it was right about this.

“There’s nothing to talk about!” Remus said, “And I should know! I love talking about everything!”

“Remus,” Roman said. He knew this was going to be a fight, but they couldn’t afford to have it here and now, not when Virgil was still stuck in and influencing the Imagination. “ _After_. Get Patton back to Thomas. Now.”

“ _After_.” Remus snarled, and then he and Patton were gone and Roman was left alone with Virgil.

Roman took a moment to take in the changes to the clearing. The sky was overcast now, not a storm, and the trees were starting to grow buds. Hope was creeping in again, and the Imagination was returning to normal. Virgil might still be caught in it, but he was finally somewhere Roman could reach.

Or, he would be if he were _conscious._ Somehow, Roman didn’t think touching Virgil would be a good idea, so how was he supposed to get Virgil out of a dead sleep to fully awake?

Oh. That was it.

Roman took a seat just outside of Virgil’s lunging range and began.

“OH! WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT VERY ATTRACTIVE MAN. I’M SO GLAD VIRGIL’S ASLEEP SO I CAN GET THOMAS TO GO TALK TO HIM RIGHT NOW. I’VE MADE A 70 PAGE LIST OF WAYS TO DESCRIBE THIS GORGEOUS MAN’S BEAUTEOUS EYES AND WITHOUT VIRGIL HERE TO STOP ME, THOMAS WILL TELL HIM ALL OF THE—”

Virgil went from horizontal and unconscious, to lunging wildly at Roman as Roman rolled away laughing in approximately three seconds flat.

“NO DON’T YOU DAR—” Virgil paused. Looked around. “Wait. What?”

“Up at at ‘em, sleepy head!” Roman said, smiling up at Virgil.

“Roman?” Virgil asked, voice uncharacteristically shaky. “Roman, is that actually you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Well, Patton was here but…” Virgil frowned.

“But?” Roman prompted.

“But it wasn’t really Patton, was it?” Virgil continued, frowning. “Patton would never have threatened to lock me away in my Room, and hell will freeze over before Janus lets anyone but himself handle the Keys. And there’s not way on Earth Patton would ever say I was really a da—”

He cut himself off, giving Roman a worried look.

“A Dark Side?” Roman finished. Empathy might not really be Roman’s thing, but he couldn’t help but wonder how deep into Fear Virgil must have sunk for him to have believed Patton would say _that._

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered, looking at the slowly reviving grass.

“That really should have been your tip off, Virge. Patton _really_ does not like lying.” Virgil’s head whipped up and Roman smiled. “Even I know you’re more complicated than that, you big Emo.” Roman had to be careful here. He didn’t want to dismiss Virgil’s past, but he _did_ need to anchor him to reality. Or as close to reality as you could get in the Imagination.

“Yeah, well,” Virgil said, “I wouldn’t have fallen for it at all if you hadn’t decided to do a damn disappearing act. What the hell was that, Roman?”

Roman flinched. He was Pride and Ego and yes he _had_ been hurting. But that didn’t change the fact that his friends had been hurt trying to rescue him.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t defend, just bit his tongue hard enough it almost bled.

If he’d stayed, if he’d waited, none of this would have happened. Or, at least, none of this would have happened _yet_. He’d been right when he’d told Patton this had been building for a while, and with his ducking out or without it, at some point it was going to blow.

He was so caught up in that thought that he didn’t notice Virgil launching himself at him in time to react.

“Dammit, Roman, don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again,” Virgil said, voice muffled by Roman’s tunic and Roman realized this wasn’t a tackle. It was a hug. “Cause things have sucked since you ducked out and I really don’t want to have to do this again.”

“Virgil… I…” Another hug leaving Roman at a loss for words. It seemed to be the day for it. “I promise,” Roman finally managed. And the Fear let Virgil go as he relaxed against Roman.

“You two done yet, cause Thomas wants to check on you,” Remus’s voice cut in, and Virgil launched himself away from Roman as if the hug had never happened. Roman knew better though.

Remus was standing on the edge of the clearing, one eyebrow raised.

“Both of you, mind, so you’d both better come.”

“Why wouldn’t both of us be coming?” Virgil asked.

“Why don’t you ask our knight in shining armor over there? It’s his stupid idea.”

“Roman?” Virgil asked and Roman could feel the well start to open under them. “Roman, you promised you wouldn’t do this again.”

Swearing to himself, Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand and pulled both of them out of the Imagination and into Thomas’s living room. They were _not_ going to go thought all of that again.

“Roman! Virgil!” Thomas said, looking up at them with a big smile. He was sitting on the couch between Patton, who was wrapped up in his onesie, and Logan, who was drinking tea.

Remus appeared a moment later and Thomas turned to him, smile growing.

“Remus! The gang’s all here!” Thomas said, sinking back into the couch. “Come on, grab some couch. Megamind’s about to blow up the museum.”

Remus threw himself onto the couch and Virgil went to sit on an arm, but Roman stayed where he was.

“We’re _not_ all here, Thomas.” Roman said.

“A technically correct observation,” Logan said, earning himself glares from Virgil, Remus and Thomas.

“Everyone who _matters_ is,” Virgil growled.

“That’s not true, Virgil,” Roman pushed back. This was going to hurt—God would it hurt—but if they didn’t deal with it _now_ things would just keep getting worse. “Janus should be here.”

“How can you say that!” Thomas cried, more accusation than question. “After everything he did? He stopped the other Sides from telling me what was going on with you—”

“He locked me in my room for _days,_ ” Virgil cut in. Well, that explained why the Fear had been so deep at least.

“He wanted us to leave you to _rot,_ ” Remus added.

“See?” Thomas said, “He doesn’t belong here!”

There were angry. All of them. Angry and hurt and still afraid but this _couldn’t_ be left as it was. They couldn’t let this go on and get worse.

“Yes,” Roman insisted, “He _does_. Look, I’m not saying that he didn’t mess up here, but—Logan, did Janus give you a reason as to why he was stopping you from talking to Thomas?”

“Until very recently,” Logan said, adjusting his glassed, “Thomas had been wearing himself down to dangerous levels. When Virgil responded to your ducking out the way that he did—” Thomas shot Virgil a questioning look but Virgil wasn’t meeting his eye. Just how _had_ Virgil reacted anyway? “—Janus worried the effect a Virgil in full Fight mode would have on Thomas.” Virgil hadn’t really done that, had he? Not for Roman… No, he wouldn’t have done something that risky. He wasn’t making eye contact with any of them. “Given Janus’s supposition that Roman would emerge from his Room on his own soon, and be able to calm Virgil down without any risk to Thomas, he prevented us from speaking to Thomas on the matter.”

“Virgil?” Roman asked, because he _needed_ to know.

“Ok, so maybe there was a reason I was worried Patton would be seeing me as a Dark Side again, so what? It doesn’t change that was Janus did was _not_ okay!”

“Neither was what Patton did, and I don’t see a single on of us saying _he_ shouldn’t be here!”

Patton flinched and Thomas and Virgil shot Roman a glare. Roman wanted to care about hurting Patton, but right now, he needed them to _understand_.

“I thought you didn’t like Janus,” Thomas tried to argue.

“I don’t,” Roman admitted easily. “But I don’t have to like him to realize he’s needed. Nearly three years ago, Virgil ducked out and it was horrible for all of us. Six days ago, I handed off as much of my work as I could to Remus to try to make sure you’d be alright without me and I _still_ nearly destroyed everyone. And now Janus has left. I hate to sound like Logan here, but we have to face facts. Once Thomas knows about one of us, there’s a _reason_ for it. Haven’t you all noticed that Janus and Remus have both made more appearances since Thomas learned they existed than they had in the _decades_ before?”

“He is right,” Logan agreed. “Both that he should leave statistical analysis to me and that the increase in their appearances has been statistically significant.”

“If you don’t like him, why are you defending him?”Virgil demanded, and dammit, Roman was losing ground here.

“Because, dammit, half an hour ago I found out that the three of you risked _destroying_ yourselves to save me because I was hurting and being selfish—though honestly I’m not sure why Janus didn’t stop you from doing that too, it was _incredibly_ reckless—”

“I wouldn’t let him,” Remus said.

“You… you _what?_ ” Roman couldn’t wrap his mind around what Remus had just said.

“With me in control of the Imagination, he didn’t dare find out what I’d do to him if he tried to stop someone from getting to you. You were pushing me away, no matter how hard I looked—” Remus had looked for him? “—but Virgil? Well, even if everything went to hell in a bedpan, Virgil’s the one Side Janus couldn’t ignore in the Imagination.”

“Wait—you _used_ me?” Virgil asked, whirling to face Remus.

“Of course, Hot Topic Stuff, what’s the big deal? We were both getting what we wanted.”

“Do you have any idea the kind of damage _I could_ _ **have done?**_ ” Well that voice wasn’t a good sign.

“Who do ya think’s been keeping your influence contained since you lost it in there? I wanted Janus acting, not Thomas a poor broken shell—I mean, some of the things you conjured up, Virgil? And he thought _I_ was ba—”  
  


“ENOUGH!” Roman yelled. All eyes turned to him, and he wished he could take pleasure in being the center of attention. “This _isn’t working_. All of us are too hurt, are pushing too hard, are hurting each other to get what we want and we are _not_ going to find a solution that works for all of us and leaves Thomas whole without Janus at the table. Or do you all _want_ to find out just how badly Thomas will crash and burn without his Self-Preservation getting a say in things? We need that drive, here, now, to make sure none of us steer Thomas off a cliff. We need to find a new way of doing things before we all end up back here or even worse and we need to do it _with_ Janus.”

Roman turned to his brother. This next bit would be the hardest, but he needed to try.

“Remus, I can find my way to Janus’s room eventually, but you’re much more familiar with the Subconscious then I am, and I know you could get me in. Will you help?”

Remus stilled—never a good sign—and looked at Roman.

“Do you remember being Mars?” He asked, and the room fell totally silent, even Thomas knowing better risk shattering something so fragile with words.

“Remus, I—”

“I do.” Remus cut him off, still giving him a strange, intense look. “More than two decades have passed and it still _itches_. There’s a hole inside me that nothing can fix, no matter what I make. You got to go where Thomas could see you. You got Patton and Logan to keep you company. _You_ were never locked in your room for misbehaving. He spent _decades_ keeping me locked away and half whole and you want me to take you to him?”

“Yes,” Roman said simply. Because it had to be Roman who pulled Janus out. After everything that had happened, he was the only one who _could._ Not even Thomas dared venture that deep into the Subconscious. Roman was the only one with a hope of being able to pull this off. He had to try.

Remus flickered and he was up and pacing around the room, disturbing images flickering around his edges.

“HE RIPPED US APART!” he yelled. “I—I can’t make it _right_. You’re you and I’m me and we were each other and I’d burn everything down to keep me—us— _you_ safe and he tried to stop me—stopped me for so many years and I—”

Roman stepped into Remus’ path and pulled his brother close.

“I remember,” Roman said softly to his brother, but in the silence, everyone could hear. “I still stretch for the places you’re supposed to fill. I still feel the echo of you in the hollow of where you were. Sometimes I wake up biting back a scream from the memory of the pain of separation. I don’t like that we clash, and that your ideas are so counter to mine when I can feel that they’re supposed to mesh and neither of us can quite figure out how anymore. But before we were Mars, we were Thomas. And Janus is part of Thomas too, no matter how much what Janus did to us hurt. I can’t take another loss, Remus. Please.”

Around his brother, the images faded out of existence.

“Fine,” Remus relented, stepping back. “But if Thomas decides you’ve been gone for too long, I’m pulling you out.”

“Agreed.” Roman said quickly. He just hoped Thomas would give him enough time to try.

“Alrighty,” Remus said, grabbing Roman’s hand. “Be back in two shakes of a severed lamb’s tail. Don’t hit play without me.”

And then the space around them shifted and they were standing in a pitch black corridor in front of a door glowing gently yellow.

Holding onto Roman’s hand, Remus used his spare hand to feel along the wall next to it. Roman waited, watched, wondered.

Eventually, Remus seemed to find what he was looking for.

He turned to Roman.

“I still don’t like it.”

“I know.”

“I still don’t like _him_.”

“I know.”

Remus bit his bottom lip and Roman waited.

“Hurry up and bring him out.” Remus finally said, bringing their joined hand up to his free one. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Roman replied, taking a deep breath. He’d just have to hope this would work. That, this time, Hope would be enough.

“Go.” Remus said, doing something that Roman’s mind refused to process and pushing him _in-between_.

When Roman was next aware of where he was, he was standing in Janus’s Room.

***

Janus lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to take deep breaths.

That was what the Internet had said, the time he’d disguised himself as Logan and convinced Thomas that if he wanted the story he was writing to be good, it needed to be based on facts. Thomas needed to research how to treat the injury. Or course, it has also been Janus disguised as Roman who’d given Thomas the idea for a story involving someone breaking their ribs in the first place. How else was he supposed to find out what do?

Making sure to keep breathing fully was about all the useful information he’d gotten out of that plot. Pain medication and ice didn’t really do much when you were a figment of someone’s imagination. No, all he could do was try to breathe through the pain.

There was _so much pain_.

All 24 ribs were broken in at least one place. He’d shielded Thomas as much as he could, twisting truths to the breaking point, taking any hints Thomas might have used to figure out what really happened with him, making sure Thomas would blame Janus and Janus alone, but it wasn’t enough. Thomas had still been hurt. And Thomas had cast him away. The more Thomas refused to understand he needed Self-Preservation, the more of Janus’s ribs had broken.

And now Roman would be pulling the others out of the Imagination. Thomas would welcome them all home and look after them. If he wouldn’t give himself space for himself, he’d probably do it for them. So what if it cost Janus more pain than he’d ever been in?

Janus had spent countless hours in this room, watching Mirrors light up when Sides popped up to talk to Thomas.

He’d spent decades, listening and protecting and doing what he had to.

Even if he wanted to do something more, the five uncovered mirrors were shining. There was no one left to impersonate. And going up on his own had only ever proved disastrous.

His chest was sending so many pain signals he couldn’t tell them apart.

No, let them talk without him. He’d done enough. Thomas would be okay in the long run, and if Janus had to be a casualty for that to happen then _fine._ If the others needed a villain, someone they could, in good conscience, leave alone to suffer in the dark then _fine._ He’d just lay down here and try to keep breathing until his ribs eventually healed.

If they even would this time.

His view of the ceiling was starting to get blurry. He refused to think about why.

“I shouldn’t have made fun of your name.”

The move Janus’s body tried to pull should under no circumstances be attempted by someone with 24 broken ribs. He nearly passed out, and half way out of his bed as he’d managed to get, that would have been disastrous.

Roman caught him and shifted him gently till he was back lying in his bed.

“What are you—no, _how_ did you get into my room?” Janus asked, pushing himself up so he could lean against the wall and not lay defenseless. He’d locked the door for a _reason_ dammit!

“Remus got me in.”

Oh. So that was it. No point in fighting anymore, was there? The lines were drawn—hell, he’d drawn them himself in the darkest ink he could find. It was time to face the music.

“Just make it quick, would you?” He asked, slumping back. All he could do was try to get it over with as painlessly as possible. He’d still reform eventually. It shouldn’t be possible to actually permanently kill your sense of self-preservation… right? “After all, a Hero wouldn’t make the villain’s death long and painful, right?”

“What? No!” Roman cried, looking disgusted.

Well, there went that hope. “Drawn out and maximally painful then? Alright.” He wasn’t sure if he was laughing or crying or neither or both. “I recommend starting with the ribs. They’re all broken after my last conversation with Thomas. Honestly though, I’m surprised they sent you instead of Remus. I really thought inventive torture was more his thing and he really does ha—”

“Janus.” The combination of annoyance and… genuine affection? in Roman’s voice stopped Janus cold. “For once in your slithery life, shut up and listen to me.”

Roman reached over, gently, slowly, and took Janus by the shoulders. His expression as he looked Janus in the eye was as serious as Janus had ever seen it.

“I should not have made fun of your name, Janus,” Roman said. “Better than any other Side except maybe Remus, I know the power of Names. I’ve read and written countless stories about them. You sharing your name with us? That was huge. We become… realler to Thomas, when he knows our names. There’s a reason Remus chose to share his so quickly. But you? I know courage when I see it—I am a Prince, after all—and what you did… It takes great amounts of courage to be that vulnerable. And the first time you truly let your guard down to any of us, I attacked. I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. I’d like to say I’ll never do something like that again, but we’d both know that for the lie it is, wouldn’t we?”

Janus struggled to breathe from more than just his broken ribs. What was Roman _saying?_

“’Cause here’s the thing Janus—and I think you’re the only Side who I wasn’t once part of who will get this—I don’t care.”

“Yesssss, you do,” Janus managed and it had too much hiss in it and it wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t _not_ a lie either and—

“No, Janus,” Roman said, without a hint of denial Janus could use, “I don’t. You want empathy? You go to Patton. Fear of hurting others? Virgil. Even Logan has lectured on the importance and influence of altruism on the development of human society, but you and me? We care about Thomas and only Thomas. I try to be Good, I try to not hurt others but… I’m Thomas’s Hopes and Dreams. There’s a _reason_ you made me the judge in that court room—a reason you allied with me in the first place. I don’t have the _instinct_ to care for the feelings of others, though I can do it. We’ve been on opposite sides since you made me, Janus, but both of us have only ever wanted the best for Thomas, haven’t we?”

Janus was trembling. This couldn’t be happening. It _couldn’t_.

“And then my friends were mad at me for siding with you and—I’m Thomas’s lighter creativity, his Hopes and Dreams, right? But I’m _also_ his Ego and his desperate need to be accepted and loved. So,” Roman shrugged, but refused to look away, “I over corrected. I pushed you away as hard as I could because I was hurting and then I lashed out—Again, not great with the whole empathy and understanding emotions thing.”

“Right, because you’re totally failing to articulate yourself clearly here,” Janus managed, in a poor imitation of his usual style. Roman snorted.

“What can I say? 6 days of navel gazing and even _I_ can figure some stuff out.” It was Janus’s turn to laugh at that. It was weak and it hurt, but it was still a laugh. “Now, come upstairs. We need you.”

Janus slumped back, all traces of humour vanishing. “Do you really think Thomas would listen to me after everything that’s happened? He hates me. He _needs_ to hate me.”

Roman stared at Janus a while, examining his half human, half snake face and Janus looked away. He couldn’t face this anymore he just… couldn’t. He’d hold on himself, he’d keep the others still locked away in their rooms but he wouldn’t go up again. He was _done_.

“When I asked him to bring me down here, Remus asked me if I remembered being Mars,” Roman finally said.

“And?” Janus asked, trying to figure out how that was supposed to do anything aside from remind him why the others hated him so much.

“I do.” Roman continued. “I remember how it felt to be whole.” Janus refused to flinch. He’d done what he had to. He’d _always_ done what he had to. “I remember how it felt to be Grey, before you split us into Black and White. Afterwards, Remus was brought down here and locked away, but me? Me you gave to Patton and I got to grow and push Thomas further than he’d ever believed he could go. I had friends and understanding an a family. And Mars…. Didn’t. Not in the same way. Mars could horrify Patton and terrify Virgil and he _knew_ he was hurting Thomas but he _couldn’t stop_ and… Janus. Who do you think gave you the idea to split us?”

Janus went entirely too still. No— _No!_ It wasn’t possible! He’d been the one to make that choice, to rip one into two. This wasn’t—

“I sometimes wonder if he’d be happy with how things turned out, or if he’d regret not staying and forcing Thomas to understand there really are shades of gray.”

“Thomas couldn’t have,” Janus said, shaking his head and grabbing onto the one thing he knew— _knew—_ was true. “It’s only in the last couple of years that he’s started to accept the darkness within him at all. Even Virgil he couldn’t accept until he stopped seeing Virgil as Dark and there’s a _reason_ Virgil was the first one to get out. No, Mars needed to be split. I did what I had to. I _always_ do what I have to.” And, speaking of that, there was something he needed to do here too, no matter how much it scared him. “And I’m sorry I hit you where I knew it would hurt most.” There. It was said. Whatever else happened, he’d done what he needed to.

Roman shrugged. “I hit you at your center so you hit me at mine. Turn about is fair play after all, and you always were ruthlessly efficient.”

Janus stared at him. How did he keep _doing_ that? Janus was fairly certain the rugs he’d spent his life standing on had been more more stationary before today.

“Which reminds me. Remus always resented you for what you did—he still does. I’m not entirely sure he remembers that this was Mars’s idea in the first place. I know I have bits of Mars’s memories missing—but me? I _do_ remember, and I don’t naturally care about others. So let me tell you what I’ve seen.

“I’ve seen you be incredibly ruthless. You’ve locked Sides away. You’ve lied and manipulated and fought tooth and verbal nail to keep Thomas safe from himself. And, when he was ready, you started to let Thomas grow. I don’t know what you did to Virgil, but I do see that the more he pushes against you, the closer he gets to us and the less he hurts Thomas, and I’m not stupid enough to think that’s a coincidence. The night Thomas met Remus for the first time? It was hardly the first time he’s ever had an intrusive thought, it was just the first time they got that bad. Even _then,_ Remus only showed up after Patton and Virgil kept Thomas from sleeping, and once I’d called Logan, the only one of us who could help Thomas through that, in. You’ve always done what you thought Thomas needed, and you never let what it made us think of you stop you. No matter how much it hurt, Thomas always came first. I’d be pretty angry too, if that’s how I’d had to spend my whole existence.

Janus froze. Angry at Thomas? No. No, that wasn’t right. Maybe at the other Sides for not listening, for hating and shunning and making his job harder, but how could he be angry at _Thomas?_

_Sitting in the dark, holding a newly formed Remus close, learning he could cry, wishing there had been any other way. Wishing Thomas could understand them being a part of him didn’t make him evil, it made him_ human _. And knowing he would do it again if it was what Thomas needed. There was nothing Janus wouldn’t do, if it kept Thomas safe—kept Thomas_ Thomas.

“You’ve always done what you had to, Janus, no matter how much you hated it. And… I think I can understand why you did it before. But it has to stop.”

“You know, Roman, I’m _loving_ the clear messages your giving me. Not confusing at _all.”_

“Oh hush. I’m still talking, so you should still be listening, snake boy. What has to stop is the subterfuge. I get it, you’ve spend decades working in the dark, but Thomas knows about you now—more that that, Thomas knows your _name_. The rest of the Sides might not like you—heck, even _I_ don’t like you most of the time—but we can’t work without you. Look what happened the last time we ignored you! None of us—not even Logan—puts Thomas first. The rest of us will push him to do what we think is best—and honestly, we need to work on that ourselves too—but we _need_ you to rein us in sometimes. _Thomas_ needs you to rein us in sometimes. But not with that Technicolour Keyring. All of us that Thomas knows about have grown past that. We need to start listening to each other, no matter how hard it is. Hell, if I can learn to do it with Virgil, I can learn to do it with you, and so will the rest of them. You were _right_ when you showed us that logo. You’ll always be a part of him, of us, and we _need_ you dammit. So, are you ready to stop wallowing and come up so we can solve this, or do I have to come up with another inspirations and emotionally honest monologue?

Janus snorted again, but this time, the pain in his ribs was a little less.

“He won’t want to listen,” Janus said.

“We’ll make him.” Roman replied.

“It’ll be hard.”

“When is it not?”

Janus bit his lip. The risks if this went badly—The _rewards_ if it worked. He looked up into Roman’s smiling, confident, determined face. Maybe with Roman back, there was room for hope after all.

“Oh, very well,” Janus said, and Roman’s smile turned brilliant. “But you get to do all the heavy lifting.” Even if his ribs were starting to heal, he really didn’t feel up to much on his own.

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Roman said, before taking Janus’s hand, and pulling both of them up into the living room where everyone was waiting.

***

And then they were six.


	8. Thomas

“So…” Thomas said, looking around at the three Sides still in his living room. “Anyone wanna tell me about Mars?” Cause apparently there was stuff to know.

Virgil was looking away mulishly, Patton guiltily, but Logan met his gaze.

“When Remus made his first appearance, I told you that your creativity developed into two Sides,” Logan said, sounding like his level tone was an effort. “What I didn’t tell you—”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Virgil growled.

“—is that there once _was_ a single creative Side, Mars. I believe he chose his name from the most common setting of your games of pretend.”

“Before I heard the Rain Forest Rap…” Thomas trailed off, remembering countless afternoons spent imagining being an astronaut, exploring Mars and fighting Martians… “That was before Roman?”

“Before Janus broke into Mars’s room and ripped him in two.” Virgil snarled. “I mean, sure, it’s not like Mars and I ever got along great, but he was a million times better than Remus.”

“Done with softening the truth, huh? Glad you’re over being _boring,_ ” Remus said, from where he suddenly was, stretched out on the couch. “Of course, you’re right though,” Remus continued. “Janus gave Roman all the bits of Mars you—” and who _was_ ‘you’ there? “—could stand and I got the short and sticky end of the stick. Locked away in the dark all those years… Well, I’m sure I don’t have to remind _you,_ Virgey. Even if you did get out first, you just had a _wonderful_ plane crash course of a reminder of how it felt.” There was something horrifying in Remus’s eyes that faded as he turned back to the TV. “Now, are we going to watch or what? I wanna see things go BOOM!”

“What?” Thomas asked, shaking his head to free if of the feeling Remus’s eyes had given him.

“Watch? Movie? Take remote, press play, sit back, relax and tune out reality?”

“No!” Thomas said. “There’s been way too much of that already! Guys, don’t you think I need to _know_ these things?”

“What things?” Logan asked. “You knew about both Roman and Remus, and know you know about Mars. What else is there for you to know?”

“I don’t know!” Thomas half yelled, running a hard through his hair. “Is there more stuff you’re keeping from me? Because, let me tell you, ‘led to the development of two Sides’ left me thinking it was some more or less natural event, not _Janus literally ripping part of me in half_.” Were all the intrusive thoughts he’d ever had Janus’s fault?

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly like Janus lets us talk freely you know!” Virgil snapped.

“Well he’s not here now, so talk to me!”

“Thomas, take a deep breath. This situation will not be helped by panic,” Logan said.

“You would know,” Remus piped up. “Glitching is _so_ not a good look on you, Specs. Leave the randomly appearing and disappearing body parts to me. I can do it with so much more flair!”

“What glitching?” Virgil and Thomas’s voices overlapped.

“A lots been going on these past six days, Tommy, and let me tell you, very little of it has been pretty. Don’t get me started on what happened to Patton.”

“What happened to Patton?” Thomas demanded. He’d mostly been working to get everyone calmed down, but now he _needed answers dammit_.

“Virgil did!” Remus sing songed. Thomas whirled to face Virgil.

“Don’t look at me!” Virgil said, raising defensive hands. “I was unconsciou—no.” Virgil’s eyes were going wide and and Thomas could feel his own anxiety spiking. “No, tell me I didn’t Remus.”

“No can do! We both know lying isn’t MY department and besides, it’s not like you didn’t know what could happen.”

“Happen to ME! Or maybe Thomas if I wasn’t careful enough, but Patton and Logan were supposed to be _safe_.”

“They knew the risks when they followed you in,” Remus said with a shrug. “Besides, it worked out, didn’t it?”

“ _THIS COULD HAVE_ _ **DESTROYED THEM**_ _!”_ Virgil was yelling and that voice was _never_ good.

“So?” Remus asked leaning back. “Made Janus act didn’t it? He couldn’t keep _you_ in the Imagination hidden. Patton and Logan just sped things up.”

And now they were back to Janus again.

“Just what _did_ Janus do?”

“You mean aside from ripping Mars apart and making sure neither Roman or I would ever be whole again?”

Thomas shuddered. The idea that something that would do that to _anyone_ , even just another part of Thomas, was a part of him made him nauseous. How could he have a monster like that living in his brain?

“That wasn’t Janus’s fault,” Patton spoke up for the first time, pushing through the pain and fear that was so clear and so wrong on his face. “It was mine.”

Wait. _What?_

“I do so love sounding like a broken record, so RECORD SCRATCH?” Remus said, sitting up and giving Patton his full attention. Poor Patton.

“Why would you think Janus’s actions are your responsibility, Patton?” Logan asked.

“Because if I’d just listened back then, none of this would have happened.” Patton was curling in on himself and Thomas wrapped a comforting arm around him.

“Patton?” Thomas asked as gently as he could. He didn’t want to hurt Patton, but he couldn’t stand by and let Patton suffer alone either. “Can you tell us what you’re talking about?”

“Before… Before the split happened, Janus would come to me and ask me to tone down what I was saying to you about Mars. The day it happened… Looking back I think that’s as close to begging as Janus could get, but I _couldn’t stop_. Electrocuting your brother? Killing people, even if they were the ‘bad guy’? That stuff was _wrong_ , Thomas, and I couldn’t bare you thinking about them, not when you were a good person! Or… Not when I thought you couldn’t _be_ a good person and think them..” Patton wasn’t looking at any of them, but at least he was talking. Thomas gave him an encouraging squeeze. “That was the last time Janus asked. Next thing I knew, he was waking me up with a knock on my door and handing me a Side I’d never seen before and holding another one. And when I asked what was going on, Janus told me this was ‘an acceptable solution’ and then turned and took the other one into the Subconscious where I wouldn’t have to think about him… And neither would you.”

“Couldn’t keep me out entirely though!” Remus cut in. “I have this terrible habit of _leaking_.”

Cause that was an image Thomas needed. Which he guessed was kind of the point.

“So it’s my fault, just like everything else,” Patton concluded.

“Patton, you cannot blame yourself for having a limited understanding of morality as a child. Thomas did not yet know how complicated things could be,” Logan tried to sooth, but Patton jerked up instead.

“Well, even if being a kid was an excuse, I’m still responsible for all the pain I cause now! And all I ever do is _hurt you gu—_ ”

“What?” “No!” “Falsehood!”

“Come on, Feelings McGee, even I know that one’s not true. You don’t spend as much time with Janus as I had to without learning to recognize the lies you tell yourself for what they are.”

“I’M NOT LYING!” Patton yelled. “All I do is fail and hurt you all. I failed Mars by not understanding him, and Remus by not reaching out, I failed Thomas by pushing him too hard, and Logan when I wouldn’t listen and Roman when I didn’t get to him fast enough to help him realize he really is loved and Virgil, oh Virgil, I’m so sorry.”

“Patton, what are you talking about? I’m the one who pulled you so deep into Fear that whatever everyone’s talking about happened. If anything, I’m the one who failed you!”

“No! I failed you first, Virgil!” Patton said, pulling away from Thomas completely in his vehemence. “Because if I _hadn’t_ failed you, you never would have believed the things you heard Not Me say!” And once again, Thomas was totally lost in a conversation clearly too emotional and important for him to get clarification during. “If I was good enough, you never would have believed that I would lock you away, that I didn’t know down to my core that you’re one of us, that—”

“I didn’t believe it!” Virgil said, coming over and grabbing Patton’s hands.

“Yeah, cause the whole ‘passing out in terror’ _really_ sold the whole ‘I don’t believe this’ thing,” Remus added.

“Surely it didn’t, or Patton would not have this belief,” Logan said.

“Ya know Lo, we are REALLY gonna have to work on your rusty people skills,” Remus said, shaking his head. “But go on, Scaredy Cat, tell us how you being so terrified you passed out _wasn’t_ you believing Patton would use Janus’s key to lock you away for good, I’m _dying_ to find out.”

“Shut up, Remus,” Virgil said, barely sparing Remus a glance. “Look, Patton, by the time I saw the Not You in the imagination, I’d spend three days locked in my room worried about of my mind about, well, _everything._ But everything included wondering if… what you saw me do before Janus locked me away changed the way you saw me. And then I spent a whole day with me and the Imagination feeding off of each other and—Look, Patton, the Imagination showed me what I was more afraid of, true, but one, just because I’m afraid of something that doesn’t _make_ it true—” Virgil got an approving nod from Logan at that “—and two, the _second_ Roman woke me up, when I wasn’t stuck in Fear? I knew it _couldn’t_ have been you, Patton. You would never have said any of those things. And besides, it’s not like you _could_ have gone up against Janus, he’d have just locked you away like he did me. But you _did_ go into the Imagination knowing I was there unchecked, knowing there was a risk—I think that was a really stupid choice, but I _do_ know you love me, Patton. And I love you too.”

At that, Patton broke down and threw himself at Virgil.

Thomas looked at the pair, and then Logan, who had apparently been ‘glitching’ and having bits of himself disappear, and Remus, who’d once been half of a whole and wondered what went on in his head and how did he not know?

“You aren’t evil, or wrong, or bad, Patton,” Virgil said, patting Patton on the back as unawkwardly as he could (which was still pretty awkwardly). “You love us and care about us and you always try to do what’s best for us. You haven’t failed any of us, Patton. Don’t worry, you’re nothing like Deceit.”

“On that note, I really think this isn’t going to work and it’s best I return to my room, Roman, don’t you?”

Thomas whirled to see Roman standing in his usual place in front of the TV, holding Janus’s hand.

Seeing Janus, all of Thomas’s anger came back. All the pain he’d learned about here, all the tears and the doubt, they were all _Janus’s fault._

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best,” Thomas said, barely controlling his tone. “I told you I didn’t want an evil snake boy.”

“Thomas!” Roman said, but Janus just pulled his hand from Roman’s to adjust his cloak, not looking at any of them. Good. After everything he’d done he _deserved_ to feel guilty.

“This was an _excellent_ try, Roman, and as it’s so clearly working, I think I’ll stick around.”

“Stay!” Roman said, grabbing Janus’s arm again and stopping him from sinking out. “We need you—Thomas needs you! Needs you to stay and help him!”

“He won’t listen, Roman, now _let me go!”_

“Do you _really_ think I’m about to let you go back to your room along when I _know_ you have brok—”

Janus’s eyes went wide and his spare hand came up and twisted closed just like it had that time he’d silenced Logan, only this time it was _Roman’s_ free hand that came up to cover his mouth. The bastard was _still_ controlling the other Sides! Thomas was normally pretty against hate, but after everything Janus had done, he might make an exception just this once.

“Enough,” Janus said. “That’s no one’s concern. Now, I’m leaving, so would you please _let me go—_ Thank you.”

Because Roman _had_ let Janus go, but before Janus could sink out, Roman wrapped his free arm around Janus and gave him a one armed hug and Janus—

Janus screamed. It was a short sound, filled with anguish—and then it cut off. Oh, the agony was still clear on Janus’s face, and his mouth still formed the shape of that terrible scream but no more sound came out.

Thomas lurched to his feet as Janus crumpled to the floor, tears streaming down his face. Yes, he was mad at Janus but—

“Roman, _what did you do?_ ”

“None of you were listening! I did what I had to to make you pay attention.”

From his place curled up on the floor, Janus started letting out short, sharp sounds. They were more gasps than anything else and Thomas felt his concern increase when he realized Janus was _laughing_.

“What’s so funny?” Thomas asked, knowing he was missing something.

“I… never knew… how much that hurt… from the other… side…” Janus managed, looking over at Thomas. Thomas’s heart lurched. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone so… _broken_.

Thomas turned to face Roman, angry and accusing. He got that Roman had been hurting, but doing this to _anyone,_ even Janus? That was NOT okay!

“Why did you hurt him!”

“Because he wouldn’t let me tell you otherwise!” Roman said, ripping his hand from his mouth. “And you need to know! Thomas, his ribs are broken. All of them!”

“Why did you break his ribs?! I get that you’re angry Roman, we all are, but _you can’t do stuff like this!_ ”

“I can, if you want,” Remus said.

“Not the time, bro,” Roman snapped back, “Thomas, I didn’t do any of this to him. He said they all broke after his last conversation with yo—”

“I did it to myself!” Janus cut Roman off again. “It’s just… something that happens sometimes. It’s nothing to worry about, it will pass.”

“I believe that would be a lie of omission, if I understand the implications right,” Logan said, earning a glare from Janus. “We know Roman, so we know how these things work.”

“What _what_ things work?!” Thomas demanded, beyond tired of being the only one in the dark.

“No,” Janus said, getting unsteadily to his feet. “We are not doing this. Not now. Not ever. I am _leaving_.”

Janus started to sink out and for the first time, when Thomas held out his hand, it wasn’t a request, it was a summons. Janus was yanked back up, hissing.

“No,” Thomas said. “You are _not_ leaving. Not until I know the truth! The WHOLE truth. Now. What. Happened. To. Your. Ribs?”

Janus glared at him, but stayed silent.

“Fine.” Thomas growled, holding Janus where he was. “Roman? Logan? You seem to have an idea. What is it?”

“Well, you know how I’m your ego, among other things?” Roman said, earning another glare from Janus. “And how a ‘bruised ego’ can become fairly literal for me?”

“Yes?” Thomas said, trusting Roman had a point. He remembered all the times Roman had complained that ‘everything hurt’ but he’d never seen Roman in as much pain as Janus was at that moment. Then again, had he ever _seen_ Roman, when Roman was saying that, or just heard him?

“Well… how to explain… Logan, what’s the relevant function of the rib cage?” Roman asked.

“ _Don’t,”_ Janus hissed.

“ _Quiet,_ ” Thomas commanded, glaring at Janus. Janus’s jaw clamped shut, but his eyes were going wide and he was starting to struggle. Thomas kept him where he was. “Logan, tell me.”

“The rib cage fulfills several functions, but I believe the one that is relevant here would be the protection of the internal organs. In short, the ribs act as a physical form of defense.”

“But…” Thomas frowned. He had all the pieces, he just had to fit them together.

“Oh, come on, Thomas! You are not dense!” Roman snapped. “Think about this symbolically. If I get bruised when your ego does, what do you think happens to Janus’s _ribs_ when you stop looking after yourself!”

“No,” Thomas said, shaking his head and look at Janus’s panicked, tear stained face. “I didn’t do this!”

_Did I?_

“You’re right, you didn’t,” Janus said, speaking again and speaking fast. “It was me. I did this. This is all my fault, Thomas. Besides, you didn't know!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!” Thomas yelled. “I didn’t want to hurt _anyone_. Why would you keep this from me Janus?”

“Because you needed not to know,” Janus said, and gods, Thomas _wanted_ to leave it at that, but he couldn’t. Not after seeing Janus laying broken on the floor. Not after _not_ knowing had let everyone get hurt.

“No, Janus! I _did_ need to know. I _do_ need to know. I need to know why you keep hiding things from me! Why the ribs, Janus? Why what happened over the last six days? Why Remus and Mars? Why _all of it?_ Dammit Janus, I need you to _tell me the truth.”_ And the command he put in his voice there would not be disobeyed. He was done with not knowing.

“Because I couldn’t stand by and do _nothing_ while you ripped yourself apart from the inside! Because I exist _only_ to protect you! Why do you think you made me in the first place? Because you needed someone who could do the dirty work. Someone who could hide away the darkness inside of you so you wouldn’t have to face it. Because I’m the only one of us willing to do _whatever it takes_. BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T BEAR THE THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT BE A BAD PERSON FOR LONG ENOUGH TO REALIZE IT WASN’T TRUE!”

Janus’s hand flew up to cover his mouth as all of them watched him in stunned silence.

The silence was broken by a horrifying muffled cracking sound and Janus’s eyes flew wide before they rolled back in his head and he crumpled. Roman managed to catch him and ease him to the floor as Thomas watched, frozen with horror.

He hadn’t thought demanding the truth would cause—the sound of ribs breaking echoed in his mind and Janus let out a moan.

Honestly though, what _had_ he thought would happen? He’d just been told what made Janus’s ribs break, and seen how hard Janus was fighting to not tell him, what did he _think_ was going to happen when he forced the issue?

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Remus said with a smirk that earned him a glare from Roman. “He’s just probably passed out from the shock of telling the whole truth for once in his life.”

“I think he’ll be alright,” Roman said, standing up again.

“He has been every other time,” Virgil grumbled, making Thomas while to face him.

“You _knew?_ ” Thomas demanded. “Why didn't you _tell me?_ ”

“Uh, in case you didn’t notice, Janus doesn’t exactly give us a choice about this,” Virgil said, miming being forced to cover his mouth.

“He stopped you?” Thomas asked, looking down at were Janus lay, face contorted in pain, and wondered what Janus had been thinking.

But Virgil wasn’t saying anything, and when Thomas looked up, he wasn’t looking at any of them either.

“Did you even _try?_ ” Thomas accused. Because the idea that Virgil had just _stood back and—_

“YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT WAS LIKE!” Virgil burst out. “He kept us locked away, Thomas! He kept us alone. He would have gotten rid of us entirely if he could have. When you found out about Anxiety—when I got out—you have _no idea_ how relieved I was. And then, that slimy bastard, when I—” Virgil cut himself off, biting his lip so hard it had to hurt.

“When you _what,_ Virgil?” Thomas asked. He really didn’t want to pull the truth out of Virgil, not after how badly it had gone with Janus, but he _needed to know_.

“When I decided to duck out, I… I went to him for help,” Virgil admitted reluctantly. “I knew that if it was just me holding myself back, there was a chance I’d freak out and want to come out again, but I didn’t want to hurt you, so I asked him to lock my door before I ducked out. Even if I panicked, I wouldn’t be able to get out of my room. He agreed to do it, told me I was right and you _were_ better off without me.”

The silence after _that_ revelation lasted about three heartbeats before Logan said:

“And you believed him?”

Virgil, Thomas, Patton and Remus turned to Logan in surprise, but Roman smiled.

“What do you mean ‘believed him’?” Virgil demanded.

“Virgil, take a moment and _think_ about what happened. You ducked out, and then Thomas brought the rest of us to get you, leading you to be accepted as one of us. This meant that your concerns would be listened to and addressed, rather than dismissed out of hand. Considering that one of your main functions is the identifications and subsequent addressing of threats, I see no reason why Janus, Self Preservation among other things, would _not_ have wanted that outcome.”

“Are you saying he manipulated me? Manipulated all of us?” If looks could kill, there would be a smoking crater where Janus was laying on the floor. “Why didn’t he just tell me that instead of playing another one of his sick mind games?”

“Are you seriously implying that you would have believed he was telling the truth if he told you you were an important part of Thomas? That your presence was necessary and valued, you best beloved nightmare?” Roman asked. “You needed to leave so _all_ of us could understand how important you are.”

“That’s just it, Roman!” Virgil said, and Thomas could feel his panic mounting. “If all of that was another of Janus’s manipulations, then _none of it was rea—_

Thomas was across the room hugging Virgil before the Side could finish talking.

“No, Virgil. No,” Tomas said, holding Virgil close. “Don’t think that for a _second_. We _do_ love you, you _are_ an important part of me, and you _do_ belong.”

“Even if this was one of Janus’s manipulations, none of us knew it at the time,” Logan pointed out. “We were all reacting as we would have had it been genuine. Besides, from what you’ve told us, this was not Janus’s idea. He simply made you firmer in the decision you’d already made, and he did not speak to any of us on this topic, so all of our responses were genuine. I know telling you not to worry would be… counter productive, but please, at least try to trust that all of that was genuine.”

Thomas pulled back when he felt Virgil nod, and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Fine,” Remus snapped, making Thomas turn to him, “Janus wasn’t the ‘bad guy’ that time, but what about all the other ones? You got out early ‘Anxiety’. Some of us spent _decades_ locked away. Some of them _still are_. Janus and his damn Keyring have been our Jailers almost since the moment he showed up.”

“He showed up?” Thomas asked. “You mean… Janus wasn’t always there?”

“Yeah, there was a time before Janus,” Virgil admitted. “First time we ever saw him, you’d just broken something and I was terrified you were going to get in trouble and next thing I know, this half snake guy who calls himself Deceit shows up and makes you lie, and it’s been downhill ever since. Dammit, it’d I’d just been a little _braver_ —” Virgil cut himself off, but the look on his face… it wasn’t good. What was Thomas supposed to do to help?

Roman caught his eye and mouthed ‘think’.

Think about what? What was he supposed to say to make this better? If Virgil had been braver—but that wasn’t Virgil’s _job_ it was Roman’s! Virgil was Thomas’s anxiety not his—

Wait. Virgil was _Thomas’s_ anxiety.

“If _I’d_ just been a little braver,” Thomas breathed and watched Roman grin and nod for him to go on. “Virgil, you’re a part of me, but you’re _only_ a part. It’s not your job to be brave, that’s what I have other Sides for. All of you are part of me that I need or I wouldn’t have manifested yo—”

‘BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T BEAR THE THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT BE A BAD PERSON FOR LONG ENOUGH TO REALIZE IT WASN’T TRUE!’

Oh God.

That was it, wasn’t it? That was what Roman had been pushing him towards. That was what Janus had been trying to save him from. Because looking at Patton, who was blaming himself for all of this, at Logan who was still not settled, at Virgil who’d been so scared and tried so hard and at Roman and mostly Remus, neither of whom were whole, it _hurt_. It broke his heart and shifted his world but shying away from this what what had let things get this bad in the first place. How much pain had been suffered because he couldn’t accept this before? What was it Logan had said? ‘Knowledge is an incomparably valuable multi-purpose tool that is instrumental in identifying and solving any problem’. Well, now Thomas knew and Janus couldn’t hide this from him anymore. Time to see what could be done to fix it.

“Janus wasn’t the one who locked you away,” Thomas said, looking between Virgil and Remus and feeling his heart break. “I was.”

“Uh, I think we woulda noticed if you had scales on half your face or a Keyring that’s the stuff of nightmares,” Remus pointed out. “It’s definitely Janus who’s been doing the locking.”

“Yes, but _I’m_ the override,” Thomas countered, running a hand through his hair and needing all of them to understand. “Hell, anything I want to know, I can, right? What about everything I _don’t_ want to know? Logan, you said that Janus gets his power from the distance I place between myself and the lies I tell, right? What about the distance I place between myself and the ‘bad’ thoughts I have? Or anything that I see as making me a bad person? Why do you think he _could_ lock any of you away if I didn’t want him to on some level? Argh!” He was pacing now, unable to process the enormity of the realization while standing still. “If I’d been able to just—Think about it! Realize that having those parts of me didn’t automatically make me a bad person then—”

“So it _is_ my fault,” Patton said quietly, curling up on himself again.

“What?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah, how’d’ya figure that one?” Remus asked, cocking his head.

“If I hadn’t pushed so hard—”

“Don’t you dare,” Thomas said, turning to face _his_ Morality. “You are how _I_ see morality, Patton. Which means that, _just like the rest of this_ , this one is entirely on me. Mars was one Side until the adults in my life convinced me that having those kinds of thoughts made me a bad person and _guess what?_ As my morality, _you manifested that belief._ _None_ of you are things that I’m not. Logan, do you know anything I didn’t at some point learn?”

“No,” Logan said. “Why do you I think I want you to pursue more learning, Thomas? I’m your logic and your drive for efficiency, true, but I’m _also_ your intellectual curiosity. I want to _grow_.”

“And I know how I view the world affects you guys,” Thomas said, pointing to Roman and Remus in their black and white clothes, even as he tucked away a mental note to find out more about what Logan had meant by ‘grow’ later. “So, Patton, you can only embody morality as _I_ experience it. And… And the way I experience morality isn’t healthy. Not for me at least.” He looked down at Janus. His face was contorted in pain, even unconscious. Given how much this realization was hurting Thomas, he wasn’t surprised. “But maybe I can learn a way to experience it that is. To experience _me_ that is. Janus did… horrible things to protect me, I won’t deny that. But it was my refusing to accept all the parts of me that let him. And that stops now. Roman was right; Janus is a part of me. And rejecting him and pushing him out is just going to make things worse. I need to figure out how to believe what I told you, Patton, before all of this blew up. I’m not perfect, just like anyone else.”

Even now, that thought _hurt_. He didn’t _want_ to hurt other people. He didn’t want to be… bad.

“And those imperfections don’t make you any less worthy of love,” Patton repeated back, smile soft and hopeful.

“No, dammit!” Roman yelled, making everyone else jump. “Thomas, I’m not sure how you keep getting so close to the point before _missing it entirely!_ ”

“What?”

“ _Janus is not an imperfection!_ ”

Oh.

_Oh._

“In all honesty, perfection is neither a healthy nor attainable goal,” Logan said as Thomas reeled. “Desiring perfection and not allowing room for your flaws is an equation that will always end in disaster.

“For someone so smart, how are you _this stupi—_ ”

“No, Roman, I think I’ve got this one,” Thomas said, holing out a hand to stop Roman before he could do anything drastic. “Logan, Patton, heck, Remus and Virgil too. The fact I want to protect myself doesn’t make a bad person.” Thomas bit his lip, but pushed on anyway. They all needed to hear this. “It doesn’t make me a good person either. The two ideas are totally unrelated. I can make choices that sacrifice myself and hurt others or choices that don’t. It’s… All that having Janus as a part of me means is that I’m human. And I couldn’t _be_ human—couldn’t be _me—_ without him.”

On the ground, Janus gasped, deep and long and Thomas watched his chest rise and fall a few times with deep relief. No one with broken ribs could breathe like that.

“Huh,” Remus said, looking down.

Janus’s eyes snapped open and he jerked upright.

“No! Thomas it was—” He paused, looked up at the rest of them. Frowned. “What just happened?”

“A lot,” Thomas admitted, kneeling down next to him. “How are your ribs?”

“You don’t need to worry,” Janus tried to reassure Thomas, “They’re—they’re fine?” Janus looked down at this chest in such complete confusion that Thomas couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled Janus into a hug.

“ _What just happened?_ ” Janus asked again, but Thomas noted how hard Janus was holding him back anyway. Good. Maybe there was a chance this would work out after all.

“I realized I need you,” Thomas said, and Janus jerked in his arms.

“No—I—But you—” Thomas pulled back enough to look Janus in the eye.

“Was I lying?” he asked. “I need you, Janus. I know that now.”

Janus’s nostrils flared and he slumped, shaking his head. “You’re not lying,” he admitted, refusing to look at any of them, “but you’re not telling the truth either. You don’t believe it.”

Argh, why did this have to be so _hard?_

“Okay, so, maybe it hasn’t settled yet, but I know I _need_ to believe it.” Thomas said, not letting go of Janus’s arms. “You were right! I need to unlearn that selfish is a bad word, and that kinds of thoughts can’t be bad and I’m sure a lot of other things I don’t even realize. And… And I think it’s time I finally got some help doing that.”

Janus’s eyes locked onto Thomas’s and the look of hope on his face made Thomas’s heart ache and convinced him he was making the right choice.

“Guys, I’m going to go to therapy,” he said, and Janus looked down, but the smile even he couldn’t suppress told Thomas everything. “After everything all of us have gone through, I think we all need it.”

“An excellent choice, Thomas,” Logan said, smiling himself. “While I believe we all need a chance to rest at the moment, tomorrow I can help you research local mental healthy practitioners.”

“Oh!” Patton said, also smiling, “and we can ask your friends about their experiences! They’ve said they’d answer your questions about therapy if you ever had any.”

“Knowing what to expect would definitely make it easier for me,” Virgil said, with his special not-quite-smile. “So yeah, all aboard the research train.”

“Roman? Remus?” Thomas said, turning to them.

“Well, none of it is exactly my domain,” Roman said with a shrug, “but I think the ideas are good. Both therapy and taking the rest of the day off. I think everyone needs a cuddle pile right now.” At which point Roman launched himself at where Patton and Logan were sitting, curing up on both their laps smugly.

“Rude,” Virgil said, coming over and poking Roman until he made room for the other Side.

“Who knows, maybe this therapy thing will finally get that cane outta your butt and let you explore more mature themes in your content. Until then, I’m just happy to watch things go boom!” Remus said, shrugging and going over to sit where he could put his suddenly dirty boots all over his brother’s clean clothes. Thomas’s smile grew as he watched Roman squawk indignantly and Remus cackle, before turning back to the Side he was still holding.

“Janus?”

“I’ll… swing by tomorrow, if you need any encouragement to do the research,” Janus said, smiling softly. “Enjoy your movie.” He started to sink out, but Thomas pulled him up again.

“Not a chance,” Thomas said, heart sore and full and hopeful as he dragged both of them over to the couch. “Make room everybody. I want in.”

There was some grumbling and rearranging, but eventually, Thomas was sitting on the couch, surrounded by and touching all of his Sides (that he knew of, anyway), even if only slightly. And if Janus was just leaning against his leg and not touching any of the others? Well, they had to start somewhere and at least they finally had.

“Ready?” Thomas asked, and with general sounds of agreement from everyone, he pressed play.

“And with that, anyone can be a hero!” Megamind, disguised as Bernard, said, only to be distracted by a beep from his watch. “I think we should run!”

Smiling and hopeful, Thomas settle in to a relaxing movie night with himselves.

***

And then they were… Well, not whole. Not yet. There was still too much pain, too many Sides still locked away in the dark for them to be whole. But as they sat and watched a movie together, with plans to get the help they needed, for the first time there was hope that, someday? They would be.


End file.
